Harry Potter: Bloodstones and Twilight
by Charlie Quill
Summary: Harry is a Snape. Not quite a Severitus. Please Read and Review!
1. Chapter One: A Smashing Summer literally

Harry Potter: Bloodstones and Twilight 

Harry Potter didn't know what to make of the news when confronted by his Uncle Vernon one night after supper. The family would be leaving for Germany, visiting distant friends of Aunt Petunia and he was to come along! The idea of it all sounded preposterous and he knew that there _had_ to be catch somewhere. If he knew his muggle guardians like he thought he did he figured they might drop him off halfway through some sparsely populated area, left to fend for himself. Or eaten alive by gypsies. Either one, they wouldn't really care; though he suspected that the latter might be looked upon with more gusto than family relations should allow.

But as cold, and indifferent as they were, Harry knew they wouldn't dare endanger his life. Not to a noticeably large extent anyway. Not with him being the way he was. No they would not (as much as they would like to) throw him out before he finished his schooling at that strange school of his. No they would keep him under their roof, every summer, until he was capable of fending for himself. A least that's what they hoped. But there _would_ be a catch. There was always a catch.

"You're to stay silent at all times! Your to be known as Dudley's servant" bingo. So that was it. He was to be a slave to 'dear Duddykins'! Maybe being stranded with a band of gypsies didn't sound so bad after all…

Harry stood in the middle of his small room, quietly listening to his uncles' rules for him while they stayed with Mrs. Dursely's friends. Mr. Dursely's face was turning a slightly reddish hue from his yelling. Apparently assuming that he was talking to lower class specimen he kept his sentences short and loud. Very loud. Harry began wondering if his uncle knew any other way of speaking to him. He was confident that Uncle Vernon wouldn't live very long if he didn't yell at him whenever he saw him. Sort of the way Professor Snape couldn't go very long without demeaning Harry every chance he got.

Following the same line of thought his mind wandered to the other, more civil, instructors at Hogwarts, wondering what they were doing and how they were doing. Before he knew it he had landed right back where he had started. Severus Snape. Harry rarely thought about the Potions teacher, preferring to think about something less…disturbing. But now that he thought about it, Harry wondered what the less than civil wizard had planned for his vacation. He absently wondered what Snape would consider to be fun. He mused over the thought, baffled. He hardly knew anything about the greasy professor other than he was mean, greasy, cold, and a downright cruel old git. Not to mention unfair. Well maybe he was fair, in his own _very_ twisted way. He could feel the anger boiling through him as he remembered all those times Snape had given him detention for so much as looking at him funny. Through the past five years, he still couldn't understand why the Potions Master hated him with a vengeance. Although he had come considerably close to uncovering the reason the previous year, when taking a peek into the penseive. In a way it shamed him that his father had been so cruel to Snape, but the Slytherin wasn't entirely innocent either. Suddenly remembering his Uncle Vernon was still in the room, and lecturing him on his expected behavior, he listened half-heartedly while wishing he could be with his friends this summer. He almost wished he could see anyone from Hogwarts, if it meant he didn't have to be Dudley's personal slave. Maybe even Snape. After all Snape talked, but he didn't hit.

But unfortunately the whole Weasly family was in Romania and Hermione was somewhere in the Caribbean visiting her brother or cousin. Harry couldn't quite remember which. He sighed as his uncle slammed the door behind him as he left, honestly wondering if he would survive the summer. At least he would have Hedgwig. The snowy white howl regarded his slumped posture before hooting quietly so not to cause an outburst from Harry's uncle.

The next morning Harry tried to pull together the fragments of what he had hear briefly remembering his uncle saying they would leave on Wednesday but whether that was this week or the next he couldn't recall. Retrieving Hedgwig from her cage he settled comfortably on his bed and looked across the room into a broken mirror somewhat at a loss. Studying his reflected he grimaced, he had grown a bit taller, and lanky. But at least he didn't look like a skeleton. The change was noticeable, even to him. He ate well at Hogwarts and when he came "home" he had enough to keep him alive. His endless quidditch practices had given some muscle but he was still skinny, with a mop of brown hair, which seemed to be darkening somewhat. He quietly observed the various cuts and bruises he had acquired since coming back home. His ribs were cracked he knew, but also knew that his _family_ wouldn't care a rat's bum about it so he saw no reason to complain. If anything Dudley might try to break them altogether. Rolling up his sleeves he winced as he tenderly touched his raw wrists, vividly remembering the ropes his uncle used to bind his wrists before each beating. 

Mulling over these and other thoughts, he vaguely heard something tap at his widow. Looking up he could see a small, gray owl, looking at him with a withering gaze that demanded that he open the door immediately. The owl flew in, landing on his desk; a letter tied to his leg. Harry untied the letter and placed knut in the pocket attached to the other leg. Without looking at him the gray owl again took off, soaring through the window and out into the open air. Harry briefly felt a pang of jealousy, wishing he too had wings to fly away into the freedom of the air. Glancing at the address, he recognized Hermione's handwriting and tore it open.

__

Dear Harry,

How is your summer going? ('Smashing' Harry thought dryly, tenderly feeling for the bruise on his ribs) _We're having so much fun in the Caribbean! _('Great of you to rub it in' he thought bitterly. Surprised at his own sardonic thoughts he focused on the rest of the letter) _I heard from Ron the other day, him and his brothers went to watch a professional Quidditch match in Edinburgh. They'll be gone for quite some time, but Ron promised to keep in touch. We all miss you Harry, write back as soon as you can!_

Best Wishes,

Hermione

As if on cue the doorbell rang, and he could hear Uncle Vernon telling Dudley to get the door.

"Ah da', why con't _Herry_ anfer i'?" judging by the way his cousin sounded, he guessed that he had a mouth full of breakfast. Second most likely. Uncle Vernon was getting impatient, so it came as no surprise when a voice bellowed up the stairs.

"Harry!" quickly putting Hedgwig away he dashed out the room, careful of his injured ribs. Reaching the edge of the stairs he screeched into a stop before running head first into his Uncle.

"Darned boy! Didn't you hear me? Get the bloody door!" Harry nodded his head, stopping only when Uncle Vernon grabbed his arm and brought back his hand. Harry flinched. The blow came swift and hard, leaving him dazed and rubbing his cheek tenderly while reaching for the doorknob, trying desperately not to let the tears fall.

Opening the door wide he invited one of the neighbors in to sit on the couch while he fetched Aunt Petunia. Leaving his family downstairs, Harry made his way up to his room, breathing heavily from the excursion. He could hear his relatives apologizing for the new 'servant' before the voices blurred into a distant murmur. Reaching his room he glanced at Hermione's letter on his desk, deciding whether or not to write back, and tell her how his summer was _really_ going. But he brushed away the thought almost immediately. As much as he wanted to leave the house, he didn't want sympathy even more. Especially from his friends. Besides he reasoned to himself. Uncle Vernon wasn't _so_ bad. He only beat Harry when he was drunk, or was mad at something or other. Other than that, everyone usually ignored him, treating him like the plague. 

The next couple days were spent primarily in his room, his food was usually flung at him through the door, as if he was some wild animal. Which, he supposed, his uncle thought he was. He let Hedgwig out at night, through the bars on his window, so she could get her fill of rats and other assorted animals. Through each summer, Hedgwig had been his closest friend, a tie that connected him to the world outside. Or _worlds_ he should say. He often thought fondly about Diagon alley, and Hogsmead. But then he would remember Sirius and Voldemort as well. He still cried at times. Feeling the familiar ache in his chest that went deeper than his flesh injuries. Sometimes at night he would hear a dog barking in the street, and casting away his covers he would be at the window in an instant. Wishing. Always wishing. But it was always the night patrol or some other stray, but it was never the great black dog he knew. Never the godfather he knew. 

Rubbing his lightning shaped scar absently he considered Voldemort. Harshly remembering that he was the start of all this trouble. Last summer dementors had attacked him and Dudley, and stupidly Dudley had told Vernon and Petunia that Harry was trying to curse him. Of course they believed him and this summer he was not allowed outside of the house, let alone his room. Since Harry had been away, Vernon's job as manager had been rapidly declining. Rumor had spread through the offices that he would either lose his job, or get demoted. This had also caused Vernon's anger toward his nephew in law. He somehow had come to the conclusion that whatever had happened concerning Dudley must have leaked into his life. So with the thought that Harry was to blame for just about everything firmly set in mind, he had waited for a certain train to come. But another strange thing happened. A strange, and none the less, frightening looking man had approached him and had several words with him. A most peculiar looking eye that suspiciously seemed to move of its own accord had particularly caught his attention. However two weeks into vacation and Vernon seemed to have forgotten those words or the disturbing eye. But Harry was at least somewhat happy that Voldemort could no longer continue to hide. Now the whole wizarding world knew he was back. He just wished he as happy about being home.

That night Uncle Vernon was in a particularly bad mood, and Harry shrunk back against the wall of his room when he heard the front door slam. Silently pondering in subdued terror if he would actually survive the trip to Germany, he listened intently for the sound of pounding footsteps making their way up the stairs, or down the corridor. 

"_Harry_!" Cringing at the wrath he heard, he fearfully shrunk even farther back, wishing he could melt into the wall and disappear forever. A shudder ran up his spine as he listened intently to the heavy footfalls of his cousin, undoubtedly sent to fetch him. A single step creaked under the weight of his cousin's massive weight, only three more and he'd be at the top of the stairs.

__

Creak.

He was just outside his door now.

__

Creak.

The door opened heartbreakingly slow, allowing easy access for Dudley's monstrous form. His heart was thumping wickedly fast against his chest, and shutting his eyes tight he could feel Dudley's snicker as he grabbed for his still tender wrists. Biting back a cry he opened his eyes as he was pushed roughly to the door. The something surprised him. Dudley turned him around to face him, looking him straight in the eye.

"I'm sorry it's like his Harry" His voice was soft and broken, he was truly being apologetic! Shocked, Harry managed a quirk of a smile.

"It's all right" he whispered. Dudley seemed to relax a bit at the statement and continued to push him down the hall and stairs. When they reached the door to where Uncle Vernon was waiting with two ropes, interlaced with sharp wire Dudley dropped his kind attitude and cursed as he pushed Harry through the kitchen door, smiling wickedly at his father.

Landing in a heap at his uncle's feet he feared to look up into his wrathful face so instead opted for staring at the floor. He traced the lining of the false tile with his eyes while Vernon grabbed his wrists roughly, causing him to bite back a yelp. His hand securely tied behind him his uncle brought him up on his feet to stand before him.

The rest of the evening went by in a painstakingly slow blur. Slipping in and out of consciousness he could hear the sound of a slapping belt, or fist connecting with flesh. A boot connected with his ribs every now and then, sending a new wave of pain and nausea coursing through is body. He refused to cry out thought, he never did. That was one thing he would not give anyone the pleasure or seeing or hearing.

The next morning he woke to the sounds of people in the kitchen, eating breakfast as if nothing had happened. His heavy eyelids opened to see he was still in the dark, he saw a fuzzy line of light, and realized he no longer had his glasses. He tried to move and reposition himself but his arm was bending oddly, and his legs didn't want to respond. He dimly remembered the cracking of bones, but he couldn't remember from what part of him. 

Indeed, Harry Potter was in the worst condition he could possibly be in for a human. Both his legs where shattered, he had a broken arm and while only one rib was cracked, two others were broken. He had a slight concussion, and a smashed in cheekbone on the left side of his face. He tried to remember where he was but only when he heard the familiar _stomp_ing noise above him did he remember. The closet under the stairs. He coughed as the dust was sent hurdling down upon him from the ceiling, trying desperately not to cry out at the renewed pain in his chest. For the next few hours he silently let the tears fall, wondering if he would ever be able to escape this time. Sirius was gone, forever, and Harry couldn't help but feel anything but lost. His broken body shook with mixed agony and grief as he thought about his family, lost forever now. The one last, precious, link that connected him to his family had been severed completely. Like everything else, dear to him it had been ripped away, savagely and mercilessly. All he had now was his life, which even now, he knew, was slowly starting to ebb away. 

*~*~*~*~*

Albus Dumbledore stood by the window in his office, much the same way Harry had been doing for the first two weeks at his relatives. Ironically it was Harry Potter who consumed most of the headmasters thoughts as of late. For some reason he couldn't help but think something wasn't quite right, and no matter where he started his thoughts always led back to Potter. But with Voldemort back in power, and the Prime Minister along with the rest of the Ministry of Magic breathing down his neck he tended to have a lot on his mind. Sighing wearily he leaned back, taking off his half moon spectacles and massaging the point between his eyes. His mind drifted back to the Ministry of Magic and Fudge's incessant coaxing to have dementors placed on guard at the Wizarding Worlds' most prestigious schools. Unfortunately he had been able to convince quite a few members of the council that it would be the safest thing for the students. And for once the quirky Hogwarts Headmaster was having severe second thoughts about the Ministers' mentality. He had tried to remind him that the _last _time they had appointed dementors on the school grounds, mayhem had shortly ensued. But the ever proud and sometimes gullible Minister who was so very eager to prove his leadership to the people who had _elected_ him (Dumbledore had received more votes, yet declined the job, therefor leaving Fudge to take up the job eagerly) amongst chaos, had ignored the headmasters pleas. Now Dumbledore was trying desperately to gain the favor of the rest of the council whom, for the most part, were still undecided. Sighing again he looked down at the letter from one of the council members, confirming that he sided with the Headmaster rather, than have the students terrified by way of Fudges' proposal. Taking a sip of his Earl Gray Tea, the familiar twinkle in his blue eyes once more lighting up, he smiled. It was a small win, but a win all the same. He just wished the rest of the council would feel the same way. 

*~*~*~*~*

That day, along with the two that followed it, Harry Potter stayed crouched in a fetal position in the broom closet, the rays of sun sorely missed. The smaller cuts healed easily, but his breathing came haltingly and far from normal. The closet was smaller than he remembered it, but this was due largely to the fact that he had grown taller. But still he managed to crouch in the corner, biding his time to a painfully slow recovery. 


	2. Chapter Two: Salt and Memories

It was cold. It was the first thought that trickled into his blank mind. The second was a vague numbness. He was still in the locked cupboard under the stairs, but why was it cold? It was the fifth time he had regained consciousness that day and he knew it wouldn't last long. He shivered, realizing that it wasn't the temperature in the air that dropped, than it was _him. _With a vague idea he had a concussion he knew, above all else, it was imperative that he keep his mind on something. Anything. 

As usual the first thing that he considered worth his brainpower, was Hogwarts. Memories from the previous years came flooding his thoughts like tidal waves, both refreshing and bitter. He imagined the classes he would be taking to reach his goal of becoming an Auror. Unfortunately he needed Potions, but the main thing would mostly be Charms and Transfiguration, which he had quickly mastered under the guiding hand of Professor McGonnagal. And an extremely large helping of Defense against the Dark Arts, that class was always unpredictable. The class brought good memories and bad, the first being last years excitement. Hermione and Ron had convinced him to teach the class to several students in private, and reluctantly he had. He remembered Cho Chang fondly, but realized the crush he had quickly developed on her the previous year was faded. But along with her memory came the unwelcome images of Cedric and Voldemort. He shuddered and unconsciously felt for the scar on his arm from fourth year. As he reflected, he realized how much the world seemed to be crumbling around him. Everything he knew was turning upside down and in a small way it frightened him.

Half consciously he shifted to sit against the wall, a low moan escaping his dry, cracked lips. For a strange instant he had the distinct impression that the Potions master would be delighted to see him in such a weak state. 

It was certainly no great secret that the head of house Slytherin and Griffindors' best seeker were enemies that harbored incredible hate for each other. Harry supposed Snape thought it was his God given right to humiliate and degrade him as much as possible. The man was a_ former_ Death Eater after all. But the fact that Harry was the spitting image of Snape's arch rival certainly didn't help matters in the least. When he had discovered the link Snape had shared with his father he figured maybe that was why the professor hated him, but even that didn't quite add up.

If truth be told, Harry quite simply didn't hate the die-hard Slytherin at all. Frankly the only reason he didn't like him was the fact that Snape seemed to hate him. Well that, and the firm belief that he had something to do with his Godfathers death. Snape hated Harry, Harry hated Snape. Facts of life. 

He heard the sound of heels clicking on the wooden floor, and knew Aunt Petunia was leaving for tea with the Smelts. Meaning it was probably one o'clock. It didn't seem at all strange that the Dursley's were caring on with their life as if there was nothing wrong. Dudley came pounding down the stairs and Harry could hear the sound of a scuttling spider across the wall where his head rested. He had long ago lost his fear of spiders, well. The spiders that lived in the muggle world that is…

Later that night Vernon grabbed him by the hair (it had been growing steadily longer) and dragged him to the kitchen, where he proceeded to pour salt onto his numerous wounds. Taking in a sharp breath, fighting the tears, he tried to focus on anything but the pain that coursed through his body. Helpless to do anything he was held roughly to the floor by one of Dudley' large boots, conveniently on one particularly large cut. If one thing could have been worse than this, it was the _Cruciatus_ _Curse_. But as bad as it was, he bit his lip until it bleed, refusing to cry out. With the full knowledge that if he did, it would become worse. 

*~*~*~*~*

Albus Dumbledor looked grave as he sat in his office, contemplating everything that the squib had told him. Nobody had seen heads or tails of Harry Potter since he had rejoined with his muggle relatives. It had been one week, and now Albus was starting to get worried. The previous report was that the Dursley family looked as if they were getting ready for a trip, a very long trip, for three people. 

Everything that had been going on in the house pointed out nothing unusual. It seemed as if a normal, three-person household was carrying on normally. But that fact alone spoke volumes, but in riddles. Where was Harry? Usually they saw him every once and a while, opening the door for someone, taking out the trash, and last year he had even taken walks! But the headmaster hardly believed that would ever happen again. 

He took a few moments to carefully consider everything that was happening and what would happen if he did something. He carefully calculated his response and the reactions that would ensue. A familiar twinkle appeared in his usually blue eyes and he immediately took out a fresh piece of parchment and inking his quill, he began his letter. It was only a few lines, but even in those few lines they carried a heavy message. He carefully rolled it and secured it tightly with a small red ribbon. Calling up a house elf he gave her his instructions, and with a _pop_ she was gone. Leaning back in his chair he half smiled, and before long he was chuckling. Thinking of Harry he slightly sobered, hoping that his letter would be delivered successfully.

*~*~*~*~*

Mad Eye Moody sat at the dining table in the Black's manor house, watching as Kreacher stalked about, mumbling to himself as usual. They, the Order of the Phoenix, all knew the nature of Kreachers traitor-ism and now he was never out of sight. Since Sirius's death, Moody and Remus Lupine stayed at the house for the most part. Other members of the secret order stopped by occasionally, but seeing as how Remus tended to be the most welcoming of the three nobody stayed long. Usually a few hours and that was if they didn't meet Kreacher's headmistress. Even now as he sat, watching Kreacher stalk about habitually, he could hear the paintings incessant yelling. 

Taking a sip of self made coffee he grimaced at it; it was far from the ability of the house elves. He regarded Kreacher again and shook his head. His life would be forfeit if he asked for and ate something _that_ house elf served up. Muttering under his breath he barely noticed it when a tawny brown owl flew in through the half open window and landed on the table. He recognized the writing, and didn't hesitate to unravel the message and read it. 

__

Those whom it may concern at the appointed residence,

It seems our favorite ceramic student is having an interesting summer this year. Since Snuffles' untimely death he has been very depressed. However, I do not think that his family feels his grief. Things are going well here, I'll be expecting your visit soon.

Old Fool

Moody read the letter carefully, and while he knew he didn't have the whole story, he had all the information he needed. Muttering a spell under his breath he watched as flames magically leapt out to consume the letter, leaving a small pile of gray ash on the floor. 

A few minutes later he apparated in a dense forest miles away from where he had been minutes before. He stalked through the trees, wary of traps well hidden in the foliage. Within minutes he reached a small cottage, surrounded on all sides by trees, and a broken down fence. Stepping through the gate he approached the house somewhat warily.

"Remus?" he barked, not bothering to knock on the door. "Remus!" the door creaked open to reveal the somewhat sleep deprived face of his friend.

"Did you know muggles have developed quite an interesting trick when they come into contact with doors? It's called knocking" he scratched absently at the back of his neck and gave his friend a less than decent look. Moody returned the look before explaining about the letter, and what they were to do. 

Lupine immediately dashed into the house dragging Moody in behind him. Retrieving a jar, Mad Eye looked disdainfully as Remus muttered a spell under his breath and turned to look meaningfully at him. Grudgingly he stepped into the fireplace and felt the familiar knot in his stomach as flames leapt around him, sending him back to the Black manor. Dusting himself off, all the while muttering about werewolves and Floor Powder he failed to move away from the fire place before Lupine appeared behind him, blowing even more dust on him. Shooting his friend a dirty look (literally) he checked his watch before reclining on a chair. Ignoring the fact he was spreading dust and ash everywhere. It's not like Kreacher would care. He might even be pleased.

Lupine didn't bother responding to the look, but instead checked his own watch and with a yawn plopped down on the couch. 

"Midnight?"

"Midnight"

Rolling over, facing away from the light that insisted on breaching the shades he immediately fell asleep. 

*~*~*~*

Thank you to my reviewers*!

*Reviewers:

Kalleigh

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Thanks people!

Now that you've read it, please review


	3. Chapter Three: Wishes and Rescue

Updated! Go back and read the last chapter, I changed Harry's thoughts on Snape just a tad

Harry cracked open an emerald eye to find he was in his room again, splayed carelessly on the broken down cot. Uncle Vernon's loud snores thundered down the hallway confirmed his suspicions that the Dursley family was sound asleep. Painfully he tried to move, but a shock wave immediately shot up his spine and he gave a small pitiful cry. He was dimly aware that blood caked his threadbare shirt, and matted his black hair.

The shades on his barred window were open, letting the streaming moonbeams splash across the bare floor, ominously silhouetting the cast iron bars that seemed to leer at him. Daring him to escape. He could hear the incessant high-pitched yapping of the Yorkie down the street, and cringed. Stupid dog. He shifted a little and looked out the window at the millions of stars winking at him somewhat loathingly. Above anything else that moment, all he wanted was freedom. Even if he was broken, torn and on the verge of death, the one thing he would ask for would be to be free. But as the stars were eclipsed by the shadow of a dark and ominous cloud, so were his dreams. If this was how the beginning of his summer would be, how would the rest turn out? He craned his neck to look at an old, worn clock. Almost midnight. In about seven to eight hours, Aunt Petunia would be bustling about the kitchen, humming to herself. Soon after Vernon would stumble down along with Dudley, searching to put his ever-ravenous stomach to rest. And Harry would listen to it all, vaguely aware when someone chucked cold, burnt bacon at him from the doorway around noon. The whole cycle ending only when they left for Germany. Harry had no doubt that they would opt to leave him behind now, he was much too marred to be presentable. 

Fighting against the blackness that slowly blurred his vision he thought he saw the flicker of something flying in the night sky. He intently watched for it a second time, but seeing nothing he brushed it off as a night owl searching for dinner. His head pounded with a white-hot fever and he didn't feel it when drops of sweat rolled into his glassy green eyes. Giving into the darkness, he knew that at least then he wouldn't have to feel anything. Wouldn't have to know anything. Wouldn't have to fight anything. 

*~*~*~*~*

Remus Lupin bent low over the broom as he navigated across the night sky, keeping a look out for Privet Drive. His companion, Mad-Eye Moody, sat behind him on the exceptionally long broom poked him, and muttered something motioning to one of the various houses. Sweeping low he was about to remove the spell that kept them disguised when Moody leaned forward whispering.

"When we're on the ground" Lupin nodded, immediately catching sight of a drunk wandering about below, singing and hiccuping, giggling to himself occasionally. 

Easily steering the broom toward where Moody had motioned, he landed it behind a few of Aunt Petunia's rose bushes, grinning when he noticed a few squashed, under the weight of his almost invisible friend. Quickly muttering the counter spell, he followed his companion eagerly up the steps. It had been far to long since his last rescue mission.

Moody took out his wand and pointing at the knob whispering, "Lumos", before hastily entering. 

"Where is he?" Nearly jumping out of his skin he cast his werewolf friend a glare before motioning to the stairs.

"Upstairs, second door on the left" he mouthed. The pair crept silently up the stairs, cringing when it creaked under their combined weight.

"Silencio!" Moody hissed at the stairs before continuing the assent. The deep snores of all three members of the Dursley family filled the hallway and both wizards looked at each other, smirking. 

Moody almost wanted to snicker, but something quickly grabbed his attention. Remus was standing stock still, not a muscle twitching, his eyes staring at Harry's bedroom door intently. At first he thought his friend had been hit with some kind of spell, but then he too heard it. Incredibly slow, shallow breathing was coming through the door, beckoning them to come in, but then something else happened causing his heart to hammer against his chest.

The breathing ceased.

Lupine seemed to burst into action, bowling over his companion, he threw the door open and was at the bedside before Moody even began to comprehend what had happened. When he finally came to his senses, he too was at the cot, anxiously looking from Lupin to the motionless Harry.

Remus was digging in his robes for something, after only a few moments that seemed to stretch for hours he revealed a small glass vial. Pulling the stopper he lifted Harry's head, carefully pouring the contents down his throat, all the while cursing the Dursley's into oblivion. Moody looked on with more than just a little trepidation, likewise mulling over every curse he knew that could inflict damage upon those who had done this. 

"He's lost a lot of blood, but I think we got here just in time" Remus pulled his hand away from where he had just finished searching for a pulse. 

Moody, still weighing the pros and cons of using the Cruciatus Curse on a muggle family, nodded his head absently while Remus scooped Harry up in his arms. Coming, somewhat to his senses, Mad-Eye stormed out of the room, following Lupin as he carried Harry outside to the broom, still hovering by the rose bushes. Seizing his opportunity he grinned evilly while flicking his wand and muttering a spell under his breath.

As the threesome departed, Lupin looked over his shoulder wondering what Moody had done before chuckling, his eyes clearly showing his amusement. Where once a few rose bushes grew, a patch of vines that suspiciously resembled Banshee Branch (a mutated form of Screeching Weed that let out an ear splitting cry when touched by human hands) seemed to be steadily creeping toward the Dursley residence. 

*~*~*~*~*

Hermione Green: Is Banshee Branch sufficient?

Ginny Lorina Fireseerer: Oi! The only Harry Potter book I own in the latest one, And I guess I mistook Lupin with Lupine which has to do with wolves. And since Rowling has an uncanny ability to do things like that I kinda guessed. Ah well, I do try. Dumbledore I just flat out wasn't sure how to spell! Also I went back and re-read OotP last night and found out Mad Eye has a dash inbetween the Mad and the Eye thus, Mad-Eye

Angeleus: this one will not be slash 

Thanks for the reviews!


	4. Chapter Four: Flight and the Dreams of F...

If you have not already, go back and read that last chapter. I changed the last paragraph, concerning the Poison Ivy/Oak scene. * evil grin *

*~*~*~*~*

Out of the inky blackness, Harry was vaguely aware of something pouring down his throat. It tasted bitter; reminding him of the blood that trickled into his mouth when he had bit his bottom lip to hard. A pair of strong arms lifted him from his resting-place, caring him somewhere. Just before slipping back into unconsciousness he thought he could feel the wind on his face, like it did when he was racing for the snitch, moments before snatching it out of the air. As if he was flying…free.

*~*~*~*~*

"What did you give him?" Mad-Eye asked, suddenly remembering the glass vial.

"A type of serum that Severus concocted for the members of the Order, I have yours at home"

"What does it do?"

"It is a mixture of various healing potions that, if concocted correctly, have similar affect to the famed Living Water. It brings the person or creature out of death's grip, but only temporarily, giving them several hours before returning to the state they were in at the time of consumption"

Mad-Eye nodded to himself before finally asking.

"Is he OK? Should we take him to St. Mungo's?" Lupin thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head.

"The sooner we can get him to Madam Pomfrey at Hogwarts, the better. If anyone is more capable at handling this better than her, I'm a Death Eater!"

"Ware your words Remus, remember Severus" Mad-Eye stated darkly.

Lupin veered the broom slightly to the left, following a course he had obviously taken many times before. After what seemed like hours of flying (it had taken almost exactly thirty minutes in reality) they finally saw the familiar towers looming just ahead. 

When they landed, Remus immediately whisked Harry to the hospital wing, while Moody swiftly set off for the Headmasters' office, not pausing to consider the late hour. 

"Good and Plenty" he muttered, dashing up the stairs, again ignoring the ingeniousness of knocking, he burst through the door to see the headmaster holding at tea cup in one had and petting an almost fully grown Fawkes with the other.

He wore deep blue robes covered with small silver stars that magically raced each other around, twinkling brightly. Looking up he smiled, as if he was meeting an old friend for lunch, instead of someone at half past midnight to discuss a most grave matter.

"Ah, Alastor, how is Harry?"

"Lupin is taking him to Hospital wing to see Madam Pomfrey, what were you thinking!" Moody's usual sinister face was livid. 

Unfazed by the younger wizard's rising voice he calmly took a sip of his tea, something flickering behind his eyes, the usual sparkle temporarily dimmed. But as soon as it was gone, it was back again. The look that smiled, acting as if, for the entire world, nothing was wrong.

"His utmost protection, I assure you, sit down, Alastor. Lemon drop?" Mad-Eye looked as if he didn't know whether to chuck the old wizard before him out the window, or do as he was told. He chose the latter. Stiffly sitting down he declined the sweet and glared for all he was worth at the aged wizard before him, fully intending to get some answers. He was sorely disappointed.

"Why did you let him go back? He doesn't deserve…it was…how could you!" 

"I'm afraid I cannot answer those questions, Alastor, only Harry has the right. He has put his faith and trust in me, I will not break that"

Moody stared at the calm face for a moment, visibly relaxing at the soft-spoken words. "And I would not ask, that you break that trust" Moody said resignedly. 

Albus Dumbledore nodded his head and the two sat there for a few moments, listening to the silence, occasionally broken by Fawkes' chirping.

"I hope you didn't do anything extremely terrible to them" Moody looked up from his inspection of his interlaced fingers and gave a reassuring, if not quite innocent, smile.

"Nothing a little _magic_ could not fix"

Albus nodded his head, chuckling, before taking another sip of tea. "You, and Remus, may stay to watch over Harry. I'll send Nymphadora to fetch his things after I tell Kingsley what has happened at the ministry. I gather he shall be here for quite some time, as I suspect he will not be able to return to his previous residence. Not even a howler could sway Harry's Aunt or Uncle now." 

Mad-Eye looked up and saw the flicker of sadness in the Headmaster's eyes once again, before it disappeared. Nodding his head he stood up, and turned to leave.

"Sure you won't have a Lemon Drop, Alastor? I daresay they are quite good. Always carry a bag about in my robes myself. Like to keep them on hand you know?" Moody half-turned to regard the old wizard before turning, shaking his head and muttering.

"...Of all the…muggle sweets…senile, old…" Albus chuckled, popping a lemon drop into his mouth as he did so.


	5. Chapter Five: Awakening

Thank-you to all my reviewers!

Momma-dar

Mikee

Kaelleigh

Furies

Read on!

It was much later that morning when Harry's eyes fluttered open, blinking back the bright light coming from the open windows across the room. A shadowy form leaned over him talking excitedly. Another, deeper, voice said something, and the shadow drifted to the edge of his vision.

Thinking it was Dudley, coming to take him back downstairs he shifted away, a slight whimper escaping his dry lips.

"...Please…" the word felt like sandpaper on his dry throat, and he tried desperately to struggle against the firm hands that held him down. 

*~*~*~*~*

Tonks didn't know what to make of Harry's strange behavior as she held him firmly to the hospital bed. When he finally drifted back into unconsciousness she moved a lock of his ebony black hair behind his ear, watching him sleep, before returning to her seat next to Mad-Eye. 

Her own bright bubble-gum pink hair was spiked on end, and Moody watched it with his single ice blue eye as the tips magically changed colors with less than half-hearted amusement. 

"Best that he rests as much as he can, for now" Lupin said softly, watching the slow, tedious rising and falling of Harry's chest. They nodded numbly, still shocked at the damage inflicted on the boy by his own kin.

"I just can't understand how…" Tonks' voice trailed off into a whisper and Remus could see a couple tears threatening to fall from her usually cheerful eyes. Handing her a handkerchief he smiled reassuringly.

"Harry's pulled through worse situations, he'll get through this one too. Madam Pomfrey's the best in her line of work, she'll fix him up just fine" She quietly wiped at a few stray tears, leaning against his shoulder wearily.

"I wish…"

"Sirius was here? We all do" Somewhat composing herself at the sound of his quiet voice, Tonks straightened up and all three sat motionless, eyes fixed on the still form, each lost in their own thoughts. 

They sat like that for some time, watching, waiting, and ever praying. Breakfast and Lunch came and went unheeded, while they each drank tea or nibbled on what the house elves brought them.

*~*~*~*~*

"I just don't understand it Professor; it was never there before when he was in the infirmary I checked and double checked his records! It can't be possible, but I checked the spell myself. _Harry Potter is not his father's son_." Madam Pomfrey looked baffled beyond reason as she sat in Dumbledore's office, rubbing her temple. Mind reeling at the discovery. 

As she finished off, with the news the Headmaster reclined at his desk, mulling over thoughts that were his own. She tried to find some hint in his expression, but it remained blank as a new piece of parchment. His eyes seemed distant as he watched Fawkes preen his feathers by the window, his face serene in some far away place. 

Finally he looked up, smiling calmly. "I think I have quite a busy day ahead of me today Madam. You had best return to your Wing, see how Harry is doing. He should be waking up around this time, shouldn't he?"

"Oh Merlin yes! Pardon me Headmaster!… and those three all crowding around him, not giving him a moments breath!… I'll have to beat them back with my wand!…"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as she bustled out the door, feeling a small amount of pity for anyone who tried to get in her way. A few minutes later emerald green flames shot up around his deceivingly frail form, sending him miles away, to search for answers, where only questions arise.

*~*~*~*~*

Two days later Harry regained consciousness for the second time since his arrival at Hogwarts. The light wasn't blinding this time, but he was dimly aware that it was late out. Probably passed dinner. He couldn't hear his Uncle's deep, ground shaking snoring though; maybe they left for Germany already...

He blinked a couple times, slowly trying to regain his focus and sure enough, slowly, everything came into perspective. When he reached up to adjust his glasses, he had a vague memory of them being smashed by his Aunt a couple nights ago. But how was he able to see? Perplexed he craned his neck to see if he could see the familiar bars on his window, but instead came face to face with the calm, yet doleful eyes of Remus Lupin.

"Professor?"

"Shhh Harry, you've had a long couple of days there. And I thought we went through this 'professor' rubbish already? I haven't taught a class in almost what's it been now? Three years? I'm hardly qualified to be a professor anymore" Harry's lips quirked into a half-hearted smile at the werewolf's gentle chiding. 

"Whatever you say _professor_" His head throbbed, but the pain had subsided into a dull ache by now. He closed his eyes slowly, savoring the feeling of being within range of a decent human. 

__

Well, almost human. He thought, amused. "I thought it had been a dream," he said quietly, realizing the midnight ride hadn't all been a fantasy, or a trick of the mind.

Lupin sat on the edge of Harry's bed; absently fiddling with a sleeve on his tattered robe, looking down at Harry's closed eyes. He noted how the skin on his arms and face was unnaturally sallow, his eyes that had sunken in had also dimmed their sparkle, his brows creased in subdued pain. A bruise on his right cheek contrasted greatly with his sickly, pale face. Cracked and dry, his voice seemed otherworldly in the large, clean hospital ward.

"I thought I was dreaming…of racing to grasp the snitch, the wind blasting against my cheek so hard I thought it would cut straight through…then my dream shifted and I was above London, racing the wind, time, everything…" unconsciously he shivered, suddenly feeling the familiar frigid coldness arrest his senses. 

"Drink this, Harry" Harry was dimly aware of a hand supporting his head as something trickled down his throat, warming him clear down to his toes. "Goodnight, Harry"

"Goodnight Professor Lupin…and thank-you" Harry said groggily.

"Your welcome" the words drifted off into the darkness as the Sleeping Potion began to work through his system, hazily aware of a hand pushing a stubborn lock of hair out of his eyes and behind his ear.


	6. Chapter Six: Prophecy

Lupin ran a hand through his unkempt hair, taking a sip of his cold tea. His stomach grumbled in displeasure, but he ignored it, intent on the sleeping boy before him. 

Indeed he had been correct, in his assumption to deliver Harry into Madam Pomfrey's hands that fateful night two days ago. She had been able to heal his broken bones in next to no time at all, mending his arm, numerous ribs and smashed cheekbone. With the help of various potions from her cupboard she had broken down his fever, and healed the nasty infection that had grown on his wounds. In a few days time he would be able walk, but then what?

He tried to shrug away the idea that Harry might have to go back, but he also knew the repercussions if he didn't. With the help of Albus' Charm, he had been safe from Voldemort's revenge, if he didn't return to the Dursley's the Charm would be broken, and Harry in mortal danger. Stretching out on one of the empty cots he took another sip of tea, oblivious of the shadow in the doorway.

*~*~*~*~*

Albus watched the sleeping boy and weary werewolf for some time, shadowed in the doorway. Absently running his fingers through his long silver beard, he contemplated his previous search at the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Mysteries to be more precise. 

Rows upon rows of prophecies he had sifted through, eliminating every possibility until he had found it. Or at least, what he hoped he had found. A single orb glowing brightly, waiting to uncover it's secret. Why he had been drawn to that particular one he had a vague idea, but wasn't sure. He had gazed, mildly surprised, at the names for a moment, lost in thought. 

Severus Snape had always been one of his first choices; he had after all defied the Dark Lord three times. It still puzzled him though, after all these years why now? The _Desguise Spell _was a very ancient curse, originating from France instead of Greece, or somewhere more prominent. If the person performing the curse was talented enough it could prove extremely effective, turning them into a completely different person although it would were off after a few days, maybe weeks. But years? A whole decade and half? It was inconceivable; not even the Dark Lord himself had power like that.

But never the less, Harry Potter was under such a spell, for almost sixteen years at that. 

Questions plagued the Headmaster's mind and he didn't like the answers he was coming up with. 

It was time to talk to Severus.

*~*~*~*~*

The Potions Professor stood in the study of Snape manor, scowling at the emerald flames that flickered menacingly, casting strange, eerie shadows across the walls. When the previous occupant was gone he sat down, stiffly on a plush chair his black eyes swirling with thoughts.

"The Department of Mysteries…Harry Potter…Bloodstones…" Muttering under his breath he snatched his traveling cloak and slammed the door behind him as he left.

Apparrating in front of the Ministry of Magic he glared at the receptionist before stating his business and receiving a small button. 

Severus Snape

Retrievment of Prophecy

"Good afternoon, Severus!" Snarling his reply to Mr. Weasly he thrust his wand to an old man behind a polished, new wooden desk (his previous one, damaged by a forbidden curse.) The old man scribbled something down on a piece of paper before handing the wand back, hastily averting his eyes from Snape's cold ones.

Storming down the corridors, cloak billowing around him he was led down the familiar route by a young wizard with oversized glasses and short brown hair. Growling his thanks he briskly set off for aisle 173, prophecy number, 1398743. 

Smooth, long fingers reached out hesitantly to touch the small glowing orb. It felt disconcertingly cool to the touch as he resolutely snatched it from the shelf, glowering at it.

__

Flashback~

"…Harry…small possibility…your son…bloodstones" Dumbledor's eyes twinkled cheerfully while he munched on a crumpet.

"Impossible" he scoffed, his stomach clenched uneasily.

"As I said…it is just a guess" He delves too deeply!

"A poor one at that!" he said, mildly irritated.

"There is a way…" His stomach clenches tighter, he can feel the color start to drain from his face.

"Don't be foolish, Albus" He takes a sip of his tea, his cool, calculated composure revealing nothing.

"There is a prophecy, in the Department of Mysteries"

"Really? And all this time I thought it was rows upon rows of enchanted fishbowls. With Minister Fudge in charge, I would hardly be surprised" If he could just keep his voice calm, sarcastic, mocking…

Albus chuckles, amused.

"It has your name on it, along with Lily's…" Snape could feel his insides churning madly, threatening to upset his façade. Best not to say anything…

His mind was reeling now, the prophecy… Harry Potter? Lily…

__

"Severus? Are you all right?"

"Yes, it's just the weather"

Albus eyes flicked toward the curtained windows, catching sight of a bright sunny day, with a clear blue sky. His lips quirked into a smile, disguised by his sweeping beard and mustache. Severus' scowl deepened. 

"Row 173…1398743…" Snape barely heard it, he knew where the prophecy was…he would always know… "I…leave…hope…pleasant day…" Severus managed to look up just as Albus took a handful of Floo Powder, smiling. Very disconcertingly. 

He stood, watching the green flames lick up greedily, to engulf the old man. 

Lily…

End of Flashback~

He stood, staring, no _glaring_, at the prophecy in his hands. Tucking it into his robes carefully he stormed out of the room, scowling dangerously at anybody who looked remotely interested in starting a conversation. 

Back in the confines of his home, he sat at the small, circular table, watching the sphere pulsating with light. He stared at it darkly, holding a cup of tea in his slightly shaking hands. Sighing resignedly, he picked it up and promptly dropped it on the hard floor of the kitchen, turning in his chair to observe it. 

Watching it warily he took a sip of tea as the glowing mists gathered together, swirling around mysteriously until transforming into the small figure of a woman. She had long, flowing hair, and sharp eyes that stared piercingly into nothingness. When she spoke her voice was eerily quiet and strong.

__

At the birth of the seventh month

The secret son comes forth

To throw away his veil

Of two enemies that were supposed

One likeness will prevail 

Bloodstones bind what once was parted

At the birth of the seventh month

The teacup slipped from his hands, crashing violently with the stone floor. 

"Harry…"

*~*~*~*~*

This is possibly the last chapter for a few days. L 

Thank-you for your reviews!

Gryphnwng

Jaded Angel8

HermioneGreen- glad you liked it lol 


	7. Chapter Seven: Part I

This is a two-part chapter. This is the first, the second will come soon, I hope. Thanks again to my reviewers, and if you see spelling errors, PLEASE tell me! Other criticism is appreciated. 

Severus stared off into the distance, transfixed. He had spent most of the night there, watching the stars while the wind tossed his hair about, his cloak whipping around him savagely. 

He watched as the sun peeked over the horizon, the stars vanishing leaving a yellow orange hue. His thoughtful frown never lifted as the sun reached its' peak, warming his pale cheeks. His glittering black eyes stared blankly at the sky, his mind replaying the prophecy, every word, and expression engraved on his heart.

A flutter of wings brought him out of his reverie, and he scowled at the familiar screech owl that came bearing news from the Headmaster. The owl dropped the letter, screeching loudly before zooming out of sight. Snatching it out of the air before it had dropped an inch he opened it, scanning the contents before destroying it with a small spell. With a loud _crack_ he was gone.

*~*~*~*~*

"Ah Severus, have a seat. Lemon Drop?" The Potions Master sat down, declining the sweet with a scowl. The headmaster shrugged and leaned back, lacing his fingers, the customary smile playing on his lips, and dancing in his eyes. "I trust you visited the Ministry yesterday?"

Nodding mechanically, Severus involuntarily tightened his grip on the arms of the chair. 

"And…Harry?"

"Is my son" Severus' voice was husky, and slightly twinged with sadness.

Albus nodded, the flicker of sadness also in his eyes, before it dispersed once again. "I'm afraid I have some news about Harry, Severus"

"What?" he snapped, wishing this part of his life could be closed once again. Forgotten, once and for all. Forever, if he had anything to do with it.

"His relatives have left for a vacation, he will have to stay with you for the remainder of the summer"

"I could just as easily detach my arms" he replied evenly, his eyes flashing dangerously. 

Ignoring the comment, the Headmaster continued, "He is already here, he will be able to leave in a few days. Lupin is in the Great Hall, I believe he wishes to speak with you."

"Splendid…" Snape muttered as he exited through the door, clearly hearing Albus' chuckles.

*~*~*~*~*

He sat at the Griffindor table; eyes glazed as he remembered all the times he had sat in the exact same spot, years before. His eyes flitted toward the door when his keen ears caught the sound of a rustle of cloth. Snape was giving him a slightly irritated look.

"You wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes"

"Well?"

"He's going to stay with you? Why?"

"It is none of your concern, Remus. If that is all?" he turned to leave, but a firm hand gripped his shoulder. Cocking his head, he glared at the other wizard. "What?" he snapped, irritated. 

"He is not James, Severus. He's had a hard life, why give him another enemy?" 

"Because Potter has no _real_ enemies, Lupin. The Dark Lord?" he queried when Remus opened his mouth to protest, he snorted. "The Dark Lord can be destroyed, I however am an enemy that Potter can't touch. An enemy of the dark may be extinguished, Lupin, but an enemy whose loyalties are tied with the light must be endured."

"And the Dursley's, aren't they enough?"

Severus smirked, "The Dursely's? What threat do they pose?" 

Remus winced. "You don't know, do you?" he asked quietly. 

When the Potions Master gave him a quizzical look, Remus released his grip and took a step back, his eyes sad. 

"Know what?" Snape asked, confused. 

"Do you know why Harry is here, why you have to take him to your home?" 

"His relatives have taken a va-"

"He is in the hospital wing, Severus" Remus interrupted. 

"Why?" Snape asked, confused.

"Because of a family that posed no threat" 


	8. Chapter Seven: Part II

The Potions Master looked at Remus. He didn't stare, or send him a piercing glare; he just stood there for a moment, speechless. The thought whirled around in his mind for a moment, nothing completely clicking. For the first time in Severus' life, he was confused. He seemed to have come to that realization for within moments his blank look turned angry.

"Explain yourself, Remus, or are you just like the rest of the _Marauders,_ just toying with my mind?" he asked dangerously, fully intent on ignoring the uneasiness rising in his stomach.

Remus Lupin, observed him for a moment before answering quietly, "I do not toy with you, Severus. Go see the boy now and judge for yourself if he needs more enemies, if anything that boy needs a family"

Something in the way Remus had said family, or maybe it had been the fact that he had mentioned family at all caught Severus off guard and he wavered, catching himself before the werewolf had noticed. No such luck. 

"What is it?" Remus cocked his head, his eyes concerned. 

"Nothing" he snapped, turning sharply on his heel, storming down the rows of tables, banging the doors open. Lupin looked after him for a moment, watching the great oak doors shut heavily before he sat down. He rubbed his temple idly, wondering what had just happened. 

*~*~*~*~*

Leaning, one hand against the wall, Severus watched the slow, labored breathing of the one student he had loved to hate. Light from the fading sun cascaded on his sallow complexion, burning brightly on his hair and reflected eerily in his eyes. Guilt was the first and foremost thing on his mind. He noted with some trepidation the small, barely notable changes that would soon mark the boy as his son. Boy? Son? Who was he kidding? He was as prepared to face the truth as he was to chew off his own arm. 

Harry's onyx black hair was longer and sleeker, no longer the messy mop it had been for the past 15 some odd years. A delicately sculpted brow creased, something of a whimper escaped the dry lips, as he brought up a hand as if to block a blow. 

Snape clenched his teeth, something in his insides lurched and in anger at his own weakness he snarled, "Potter!" surprised at how easy it had come to blame Potter of everything. But this wasn't James; this wasn't even a Potter. 

Dull, ivy green eyes snapped open coming to rest on glittering black ones.

"Snape?" he asked groggily, his arm dropping to his side painfully. 

"You are to call me _Professor_ Snape or _sir_, Potter. You are in Hogwarts, and therefore are still my student." His voice sounded cold, and harsh, as he glared down at the boy. The-boy-who-lived. _How much more did I miss in my blind hatred?_

"Yes, _sir_" he corrected, his voice equally cold as he realized who he was talking to. What was Snape, of all people, doing here? Did he know what had happened? _Probably came to have a good hard laugh._ Harry thought bitterly, hating the Potions Professor for even seeing him in such a weak state. "Why are you here, _sir_?" he asked coldly, wanting nothing more than to hex that sneer of his face permanently.

"To inform you, Potter, that you will be staying in my household for the duration of the Summer Term. On Dumbledore's orders, I assure you. However" he smirked at the mixed expression of surprise, horror and finally anger on his pupil's (dare he think son's?), face before continuing. "Since I do not have any intention of letting you within one hundred yards of my home, you will remain with me in the dungeons." 

Harry stared at the head of Slytherin, refusing to blink when the pitiless eyes stared back. Live with Snape? He just knew he would be facing expulsion within the week. Honestly, what was Dumbledore thinking? If he was still throwing around that confounded idea that they would be friends, he was sorely mistaken. How could he? After what had happened last year? Unconsciously he gripped the bed sheets, a familiar ache tearing his heart apart mercilessly. 

Snape left almost immediately; seemingly oblivious to the lost, pained expression in the depths of the emerald green eyes.

*~*~*~*~*

But Snape wasn't oblivious, far from it in fact. The pained expression, hidden behind a façade haunted his thoughts as he retreated to his private quarters. Locking the door he sat on a high back chair muttered a spell and watched as flames leapt in the fireplace throwing odd shadows across the room.

The house elves had obviously kept the place free of dust while he had been away, leaving a clean albeit slightly sinister looking living quarters. He ran a hand through his greasy hair absently, pondering the expression of hate on the still bruised face of his son. Looking into the astonishingly green eyes so full of mistrust and dislike leaving a different impression on him than before. 

Before he had been James' son, a mirror of his school nemesis, but now… Now he was…an enigma. A complete mystery to Severus, and more importantly, a part of a memory that he had determinedly buried long ago. But now, like an old scar being ripped open, he was being forced to remember everything that he had fought so hard to forget. Unsuccessfully. 

Since the first time he had watched his malnourished frame shuffle in through the large oak doors, watching everything and everyone with curiosity and delight, he had hated the boy. Searching for any reason to torture the boy, he had taken great delight in belittling him in class. The boy had been an outlet of his frustrations, contempt, and most of all his fallen pride. Without thought or consideration he had immediately labeled the boy another James, taking pleasure in getting his revenge. 

Second and third year he hadn't stopped the barrage of torment. Always making sure he went just far enough to get to him but not far enough to get a considerable amount of attention from Dumbledore or anyone for that matter. He had always known where to draw the line, but somehow Harry was always the little hero. He of course had read the articles, which praised the-boy-who-lived avidly, drinking it all in, fueling the image of another proud James. 

He remembered Harry's fourth year, when Rita Skeeter had written a particularly nasty article connecting him in a love triangle with Hermione Granger and Viktor Krum. Malevolently he had read the article aloud to the class, taking a sick joy in watching Harry burn with anger. He had encouraged the Malfoy child in his attempts to jeer and taunt the _celebrity. _With the sudden appearance of the Dark Lord, Severus had become even bitterer, using Harry as an outlet of his frustrations.

And as fifth year rolled around, he had positively enjoyed the fact that Harry was becoming the laughing stock on the wizarding world. He was hardly concerned when the boy started having nightmares, but was disturbed at being asked to give him Occlumency lessons. Never-the-less he had done as he was asked to, darned those twinkling eyes of Albus… He was somewhat irked at some of the images he had seen, but passed it off as rare occasions. No doubt the bike ridden by what appeared to a whale had previously belonged to the beloved Potter. As for the dog, it was a fluke. Those and probably all of the other images he had seen, save for the dementors, were probably distorted memories. Altered to play on his sympathies. But he had not given in; he had ignored all the signs that now came back, haunting him. 

He remembered instances when he had recoiled from someone's touch, the way he had laughed but it had been hollow and his eyes had been empty of mirth. He watched the flames flicker licking at the dry log hungrily, his mind lost in guilt as the realization hit him. He had been wrong. 

*~*~*~*~*

Well there is the second part of Chapter 7. 

Thanks to my reviewers-

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Hermione Green- thanks, I am the cruel one aren't I? * sings* "I'm a mean one, nillulmaiel..da da da da da da da….

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Jaded Angel8- how did you like this part?

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Gina-thanks

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Athena kitty- questions will be answered soon enough * evil laugh *

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Kaelleigh- thanks : ) 

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Momma-dar- * grin * who doesn't love Remus ; ) 

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Emiepatapouf- thanks

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MiakaChan5- sorry about the chapter being short I try to write three to five pages for each chapter, thanks for the review

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Ginny Lorina Fireseerer- thanks for pointing out the 'thank-you', for some reason my spell check didn't pick it up hmmm


	9. Chapter Eight: Devils' Snare

A few weeks later the morning dawned bright and early. Much too early. Harry sat up in bed, rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes as he tried to remember why there was an ominous pit in his stomach. 

His usually perky green eyes, now dull and void of the exuberance he had once been marked for, rested on a set of robes laid out for him. There was also a charcoal grey turtleneck, black slacks, and a pair of boots laid out beside them. He stared at them curiously before noticing a piece of parchment rolled up and tied with a green ribbon. Picking it up he glanced up and down the long hospital ward, wondering if this was some kind of joke.

__

Get dressed, and report to my quarters at 9 o'clock sharp. Your other belongings have already been delivered. The password is 'devil's snare'. 

Professor S. Snape 

Harry froze. Snape. That's what he had wanted to remember, or rather, _didn't_ want to remember. Ignoring the impending sense of dread he felt growing in his stomach he hurriedly got dressed and after a full check up with Madam Pomfrey, started for the dungeon.

Boots clicking on the stone floor of the dungeon corridor, Harry absently brushed a lock of dark hair from his eyes and hoped he wasn't lost. Stopping at a few pictures where the occupants looked slightly truthful he got the gist of what direction he was going and glancing at his watch felt his stomach to a flip flop. It was five after nine. Quickening his pace he found a large painting of Salazar Slytherin, looking none to pleased to see him.

"You're late" he stated disdainfully.

"No! Really?" he growled sarcastically, not about to waste more time talking to a portrait he snarled the password and entered.

Entering a large rectangular room he noted a hallway on his right, and a singular door on his left. Light was peeking from under the door on his left and he watched it for moment before scrutinizing the rest of the room. A welcoming fire was directly across from him two high back green chairs sat facing the hearth and a book lay open on the small table in-between them. No silver trinkets whirred or buzzed here like in the Headmasters office, instead there were rows upon rows of books. 

Great, small, old or new they lined the walls collectively. Some were green or black while others were brown and white. He stared at them for some time before crossing the room and picking up the book that lay open on the table. Sitting on one of the high back chairs he began skimming the pages.

"Your late, stand up" Harry jumped at the sound of Snape's voice coming from behind him, but obediently he stood, replacing the book on the stand.

"I'm sorry, I've never been down here before, _sir_" 

"Your room is the third on the left, the bathroom is right across from it. Breakfast, lunch and dinner will all take place in the Great Hall as usual, do not enter that (he motioned to the solitary room) room without me there. You will inform me when you go outside, you will not go to Hogsmead without a responsible adult, lights out at ten" Harry listened and when he finished he decided to play dumb and raised his hand. 

"Would that be 'A.M.' or 'P.M.', professor?" 

Snape glared at his innocent face before turning on his heels and storming out of the room. "P.M., Mister Potter" he growled from down the hall. Composing his face he followed suit, wondering if he would like his new room. 

It wasn't grand, slightly shabby, a visible layer of dust on everything. But it would have to be home. He unconsciously shivered. Living with Snape, this was going to be grand. After unpacking his trunk of what little belongings he had he sat on the edge of his bed which had been furnished with black, green, and silver trimmings, and thought about how dismal his summer was turning out to be.

Snape stayed as far from the room as possible for the duration of the morning, and that was fine with Harry. He cracked open a few of his books and attempted catching up on his reading and homework, before finally collapsing on his bed, bored out of his mind and terribly tired. Snape awoke him a few hours later, his cold voice reminding him that lunch was in half and hour. 

Not feeling very hungry and wanting to avoid human company for as long as possible, Harry skipped lunch and wandered the empty corridors alone. He met Peeves a few times, but it seemed Peeves wasn't in his usual poltergeist mood when there weren't hundreds of students to torment. Dodging a few half-heartedly thrown pieces of chalk, Harry ducked through a class room door and hid while he listened to Peeves' cackling die away. 

Standing up stiffly, he looked around what he thought had been an abandoned class room. Upon closer inspection he noticed rows upon rows of books. The smell was that of ancient scrolls and parchment, yet he could smell something else. It was faint, but it held his attention until finally giving up, he turned back to the books. As he walked along each row he realized how very much like the library it was.

Randomly picking out a leather bound book that looked to be centuries older than the four founders themselves, Harry settled down onto a high back chair by the window. Flipping randomly through the pages he skimmed through diagrams, sketches and charts. A potions diary. Mildly interested he read through a few paragraphs until he noticed that each potion was something in the process of being created. Whoever had written the journal, had discovered the very potions it spoke of. Turning the book over he glanced at the bottom of the cover and almost dropped the book in surprise.

Salazar Slytherin 

Finding the place where he had found the book, he picked up another and looked at the back cover.

Salazar Slytherin 

Putting both books back in their places he picked up a few others and looked at their authors.

S. Slytherin…Salazar Slytherin…Salazar Slytherin 

Replacing these books as well, Harry chose a random isle on the other side of the room and picked up the first book he laid eyes on. Flipping it over he stared at it dumb struck.

Godric Griffindor 

After picking up a few other books that read the same author he replaced them as well, turning down yet another isle. Picking up yet another couple books he looked at the back cover.

Helga Huffelpuff 

Turning down the last isle he picked up thin brown book, sending a cloud of dust floating in the air.

Rowina Ravenclaw 

Not bothering to check any of the other books in the isle he decidedly pinched himself, immediately regretting it. While rubbing his, now bruised, arm Harry retreated to one of the isles he had a vague idea contained some of Godric's writings.

Quite a few, to his utter delight, contained maps of various secret passages. Complete with passwords. Thumbing through a great number of the dusty texts while sitting in an extraordinarily comfortable chair, Harry glanced through bleary eyes at his watch nearly falling out the chair in surprise. The time was eleven o'clock. 

__

Merlin, I've been here for hours! _Snape's going to murder me!_ And then as an afterthought added, _but he'll have to wait in line…_Hastily returning each of the books, he flicked off the light switch and dashed out the door, not bothering to check if it was locked properly. 

Skidding to a halt before crashing into Snapes' door, various ribs voicing their protests in the form of pain, Harry mentally berated himself for not keeping up with the time. Knowing there would most likely be various wards on the door he whispered the password and gritting his teeth turned the handle. 

Creak 

The door opened painfully slow, the rusty hinges no doubt waking everyone within five hundred miles. Cringing at the sound he mentally thanked every known wizard and god on earth that he was thin as a twig, while slipping through the barely opened door. Closing the door, he noted with relief that the hearth had long since been put out, and no light was peeking from under any of the closed doors. 

"It's a bit early for a midnight snack yet to late for an evening stroll" a familiar, cold voice drawled from one of the high back chairs. Halfway to his room, Harry froze in place his heart hammering. Slowly he turned around, dreading what he would find, but already knowing what he would face. 

*~*~*~*~*

hermione green- yes I know, bit of a nasty shocker eh? Never thought it was possible, Snape, of all people, being wrong!

Jaded Angel 8- thanks

Athena kitty- * sigh * so many questions… * evil grin *

Emiepatapouf- * sniffle sniffle * whoah did I just show emotion? Intentionally!!! I must be ill…

Ennui2- thanks!

Byproduct of evil- hello again! So you liked it? * grin *

* shameless plug *

read my other stuff…please? Even if you e-mail me, telling me it's the worst stuff you've ever read, hey, at least you _read _it eh? * winkwink * 


	10. Chapter Nine: Truths Untold I

Chapter 9

Menacing black eyes glared at him from across the room. Harry swallowed hard; this wasn't going to be enjoyable. A fleeting image of his uncle's red face crossed his mind and he mentally cringed. But then again, Snape had always lashed him with words. And while they hurt, the professor had never physically harmed him.

"Sit" he hissed. Harry obeyed, his stomach doing odd somersaults.

"Where were you at lunch and dinner? Why are out of bed? Where have you been? Do you know what we could have assumed?" the questions left Harry slightly dazed.

"I wasn't hungry, and I…" 

"Did I not clearly state that you were to be in bed at ten?" the cold voice was grating on Harry's nerves and he was swiftly losing courage. 

"I'm sorry…" he began, but Snape didn't give him the chance to finish.

"Sorry? You may feel it is your right to prance around without thought of your actions, but I assure you it is not. Just like James, flaunting rules and presentation!" 

Harry's blood was boiling but at the same time he could feel a bead of sweat trickling down his brow. 

"Did it ever cross your pathetic excuse for a mind that the Dark Lord is trying to murder you? Or is that too far below the famous Harry Potter to think about? After all, Harry Potter _is _invincible, isn't he? Listen to me, boy (Harry froze), despite your name; your former accomplishments- most I might add- were by pure dumb luck, you are not all powerful! No one is going to cry for you here, Mister Potter! You are _not _going to get away with everything like the Headmaster allows in the school term while you stay here! So you might as well get that foolish idea out of your thick head right now! Just like James, and look where it got him! Just because you 'defeated' the Dark Lord does NOT mean you are the greatest thing to ever have happened to this world"

Harry was visibly shaking now, both from anger and fear. "I DIN'T ASK FOR THIS LIFE! I DIDN'T ASK VOLDERMORTE TO KILL MY PARENTS!" he screamed upstarting. Fixing a livid glare upon the professor he calmed his composure and put a leash on his anger. "I didn't ask to live" he stated coldly and oddly detatched. With that Harry strode toward the door, various healing bones screaming their protests.

Snape, stunned by the last statement; pulled enough wits together to lock the door before Harry could leave.

Turning the knob in vain, Harry half-turned to say in a deathly calm voice, "Let me go" Why was this always happening to him? First Dumbledore, now Snape!

"No I will not" Snape replied, equally calm. "Sit down"

Harry stared at the older wizard as if he was mad. His breathing had escalated and he unconsciously clutched at the stitch he had acquired in the excursion. Boiling anger under his pale skin he stood his ground and glared at his hated professor. 

"I said sit down" a vehement anger danced in the shadows of his black eyes and Harry felt his stomach do a flop when he saw it. His mind flashed to another time he had seen that look and he swallowed slowly, again beginning to visibly shake.

"Yes, sir" he said quietly, sitting in the chair provided, eyes downcast. 

Severus watched the boy's reaction for a moment before realization struck him. Feeling an uncomfortable pit in his stomach he turned away and mentally berated himself. "I apologize, I should not have…" words failed him, and he opted for conjuring a small table and a tray of steaming tea instead. 

Harry watched as the older wizard took a cup in his hands, sat down and took a sip; refusing to reach for the other cup he closed his face to emotion and watched the steam slowly flow up to the ceiling. 

"I have something to tell you, something important that I think you need to hear" Severus' eyes regarded the glazed look that Harry wore before continuing. "Are you listening?"

"Yes, sir" 

The Potions professor paused for so long that Harry wondered if he was going to continue. Daring to raise his head ever so slightly he chanced a look at the sallow face.

"At Hogwarts I used to help your mother, Lily Evans, with Arithmacy and Potions in return for her help in charms and transfiguration. I didn't want to help her at first, but I needed the help and so did she." Harry saw his eyes slightly cloud as memories came back in waves, his voice taking on a calm monotone as if he was explaining another man's life. "Every Wednesday we would meet in the second library." Harry gave him a curious look, but Snape didn't indulge. "At exactly five after seven, lugging in our books and panting from the exertion of getting there. That was our fifth year, by sixth we had built up a fairly good relationship. We no longer needed to help each other in our studies but we kept on. 

"I suppose it was from habit, perhaps a hunger for someone who wouldn't judge you when you came in and poured out your heart to them. Maybe a need for someone to just sit and listen to you while you rant and rave, someone to tell all your triumphs, sorrows and an understanding of each other's downfalls. Every day we would meet and talk, read, or just sit and listen to the quiet- whatever we wished for one hour. One blissfully private hour.

"Right up until she started hanging around with the Marauders- hardly saw or spoke to her again after that". Harry made to speak but Snape stopped him, "James and Sirius threatened to hex me into oblivion if I did so much as look in her general direction." He stated distastefully, black eyes glittering menacingly. 

Harry vaguely wondered where this was leading to, but decided that as long as Snape was busy talking-it didn't really matter. 

"Seven years after my graduation from Hogwarts, I was just finishing my third year as apprentice to a venerable Potions Master in London. I was in my twenties, young and foolish- a regular rebel without a cause" his lips twitched slightly. "When I met Lily walking out of a well disguised potions shop in Edinburgh, and she had just happened to be carrying several bottles of potions that when mixed together create a very…interesting reaction. After cleaning me up and picking me up from off the street she offered me lunch as pay back and I made a less that decent remark about paying her way through anything and we hit it off again.

"She, of course, spent that whole lunch trying to get me to tell her how my life was going and I, as usual, evaded every question, weaving my usual web of confusion and never letting the conversation drift farther than 'you haven't changed one bloody bit…unfortunately'. After that we kept meeting each other every now and then, until one time, when I was spending the night at a classy hotel in Dublin we crossed paths once again." 

Harry chanced another quick look at Snape when he paused and for a fleeting moment thought he saw himself looking back at him. Except older…

He shook the thought away even as it manifested itself in his mind again. It was ridiculous, but he couldn't shake the sneaking feeling that something more that just a casual meeting had happened that night. He mentally shook his head, it was ludicrous…right?

*~*~*~*

Jaded Angel- sorry I didn't answer your question in this chapter, but I'm glad you liked the last one!

Gina-thanks!

MerlinHalliwell-thanks

Hermione Green-so many questions! * grin *

Byproduct of Evil-how's this?

Emiepatapouf-it's one of his better traits, eh? * wink *

Whitetiger0817- don't be ridiculous! 

Nickiangelfier- ditto 

Kaelleigh-thanks, you're awesome 

BabySphinx- * poof * how's this?

Ennui2- * grin * thanks, how's this one?

Henio- thanks a bunch!

Athena kitty- more questions! * grin * Didn't answer your question in this chapter, but perhaps next time…

And Remember All

Constructive criticism is GREATL appreciated! 


	11. Chapter Nine: Truths Untold II

Yes yes I know. It's infuriatingly short. But bare with me, I'll make it up to you with the next chapter. Really. Don't give me that look!

* blinks * whee! I only need one more review and then I'll have 60 reviews! Fweeb! * Likes new word 'Fweeb' *

~

Severus' velvet voice continued with the secret tale, shadowed eyes off in another world. His words were soft and low, toned and captivating. 

Harry stared at his teacup with distant eyes as the tale knitted together in his mind, forcing images to play themselves out in his minds' eye. 

A woman, small and delicate with innocent green eyes and a splash of freckles approached a large hotel calmly. Her red curls bounced with each step and she shyly thanked the man who opened the door for her. Flashing a smile at the man who stood, ready to deal with his next customer, she stated her name and waited as he checked his list.

"Ah, yes, Evans." He handed her two keys and a few pamphlets containing visitor information. 

Picking up her bag she checked the number and headed for the elevator. Inside her spacious room she carefully put her clothes in the closet and re-sizing her briefcase she opened up a few Ministry document. Ordering a cup of orange juice, she never drank coffee, she ran over the statements and various pieces of parchment.

Hopefully with this final business trip the matter would be over and done with. The minister had been putting pressure on her department for this particular trial and with all the havoc surrounding this 'Dark Lord'; her nerves were certainly being tested.

Several hours later, her paperwork finished she stood and stretched, checking the clock.

"Oh fudge" she muttered, she had better get down stairs before the kitchen closed. Licking her lips she checked her reflection in the mirror and cringed. Thank goodness everyone she knew was in Kent, preparing for the trial. 

Changing into a pair of muggle jeans and tea shirt, compete with sweatshirt wrapped around her waist she left in search for food. 

Luckily the kitchens weren't closed and with a steaming plate of shrimp and codfish she chanced to glance up and meet the black gaze of someone familiar.

~

Gee, I wonder who in the ghastly gouls she is staring at? * attempts to look like Legolas in one of his more brilliant shots, then studiously ducks every flying object that is directed at her head * Whee! That was fun!

The author would like to portray how much she appreciates your reviews, encouragment, and all that nonsense. She even might be driven to give a hug. Lucky for you though, she isn't a hugging type of person!

Thanks to:

Jaximillion

Anora

Hermionegreen – who consequently has not stopped reading, as have many of you which astounds me to no end *continues, baffled * 

Molly Morrison- thanks for pointing my error! I have no knowledge of anything magical (except for banshee branch and wailing weed for some odd ball reason)

Ennui deMorte- what DOES your handel mean? It intrigues me…* mystified look * 

Serpent of Light- I'm glad everyone else liked the last chapter, cause I don't. it wasn't put together right in my opinion * shrug * oh well, I'll get over it

Well I've been cooped up for a hefty three week so I had to do SOMETHING. So since I was getting e-mails demanding another chapter I decided, oh well. If you can't beat 'em off with a stick, Join 'em!

Well the quote goes something like that, anyway. 

* Stalks away, robes billowing * 


	12. Chapter Ten: Bloodstone Secrets

Harry listened to the story unfold, the truth dawning on him like a shroud of mist receding from the morning light. Sleep was tugging at him and he could feel his eyelids droop. His muscles and bones were begging for sleep and in spite of himself he yawned.

Harry found himself being led to his "room" and before the sleep took him he saw a blurry figure at his door watch him for a moment before switching off the light and leaving, soft footsteps trailing down the hall.

For some reason that he couldn't explain dreams evaded Harry that night. Maybe it was knowledge that some greater underlying disorder was about to transpire in his life. Or perhaps whatever fates controlled him took pity on him. 

Waking up he sighed and pushed back the covers and sat up. He rubbed his eyes and once again found himself looking about his room. He thought about the previous night and all the events that had transpired. 

He scratched the nape of his neck absent-mindedly and yawned. Changing his clothes he wandered out into the main area where he found Dumbledore talking with Snape in low tones. Ever twinkling blue eyes met green and the conversation stopped.

"Er Good morning, headmaster, professor" Harry said uneasily, shifting from one foot to the other. 

"Good morning, Harry, would you like some breakfast? The house elves brought down some toast and tea, there is some fruit here as well"

"No thank you, Headmaster," said Harry, shooting Severus a nervous glance he continued, "Er…sir?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I found a library yesterday up on the fifth floor, I was wondering if you knew anything about it"

"Did you? It wouldn't surprise me; Hogwarts has many secrets yet to be uncovered. You'll have to show me sometime. Well, Severus, Harry, I must be off. The ministry sent me an owl, appears there is some trouble in Ireland"

Snape went with the Headmaster to the door where he said something in hushed tones. Harry stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, wondering what he should do. Deciding to just wait, rather than pick something up and risk the wrath of Snape. A few minutes went by and just when Harry was beginning to think he should sit down Snape came billowing in a scowl on his face.

"Breakfast?" he asked curtly.

Harry nodded but opened his mouth to say more. He worked his jaw for few minutes, feeling his nerve slip away as the obsidian eyes bore down on him.

"Well, spit it out, Potter, I don't have all day"

"I was just…I wanted…maybe…Um…well you see…"

"For Merlin's sake!"

"Are you my father?"

Silence reined for what seemed like an eternity. 

Snape stood, face unreadable, cold eyes meeting youthful green. Such vibrant green.

"Yes" his voice was noticeably rougher, older, colder. "Yes, I am your father. I met your mother that night, on accident and we had dinner. We talked long into the night, perhaps to late. Drinking wine, perhaps to much."

"Drunk? I was conceived in a stupor?"

"No" he snapped, "we both knew what we were doing. Perfectly aware of what the repercussions were going to be. We _knew_ what was going to happen"

"What? I don't think-"

"That is perfectly obvious" stated Snape, effectively shutting him up. "A long time ago a prophecy was made by Sybil's great great grandmother. She made the prophecy as a gypsie, while telling the fortunes of your mother's relations when they went to a fair in the country. Soon after that incident the seer left and went to Albus Dumbledore, she had the peculiar gift of remembering her Sight."

"But he couldn't have been headmaster? Why did she go to him?"

"Because he was an auror, and a very good one at that. He was to take the position of Defense five years later. So after she relayed it to him, he put the names of the muggles into Gringottes along with the written prophesy. The names were Lillian and Patrick Evans. Several years later Lily arrived on the Hogwarts Express and the name was immediately recognized. Several years later Albus took her aside and told her what had happened all those years ago. She knew immediately of what he was talking about from the story her grand mother had told her when she was a young girl. The prophecy was also handed down, woven into tapestries and became more of a fairy tale than taken seriously."

"What was the prophecy?" Harry asked, a dazed expression taking intrest in the wall. 

_'At the birth of the seventh month_

The secret son comes forth,

To throw away his veil.

Of two enemies that were supposed,

One likeness will prevail .

Bloodstones bind what once was parted,

At the birth of the seventh month.'

That night when your mother spotted me she told me what the Headmaster had told her. It had haunted her for months, but always she pushed it to the far corners of her mind. But when she saw me, she did the math. 

I was surprised what she wanted me to do. James was her fiancé; she was going to be married in a matter of days. They had both wanted to get married as soon as possible, so they planned it for three days after their work was done that week. She had thought when Albus told her that it would be James. After all, for years she hadn't liked him, maybe even loathed him as much I had. 'Two enemies that were supposed', it didn't fit"

"But you did"

"Yes" 

Harry, who had been leaning forward, elbows on knees, now slumped back and closed his eyes. He did do or say anything for a long time, the silence in the room deafening. 

"Dumbledore knows" it wasn't a question so much as it was statement, but Snape answered anyway.

"Yes, but other than Madam Pomfrey, no one else"

Harry quirked a brow at the mention of the mediwitch but realization dawned and he nodded. "The bloodstones?"

"Yes"

"What are they exactly? I know they were thought to be lost centuries ago, and they can be used in complicated rituals and, " he hesitated, "Altering spells"

Snape nodded, "Correct. The Ancients who also discovered the powers of Animangus created them in Rome. But when they discovered the way in which they could be used for evil, they tried to destroy them. But it didn't work, the Ancients themselves were stripped of their power and destroyed by them. I'm not sure how, but Lily found them and took it upon herself to protect you for as long as possible. She knew her child would be important because there was a prophecy for him in the Department of Mysteries. 

Bloodstones are a dangerous business, and Lily knew that. She waited till James left town and then she performed the ritual. She disguised my blood with blood she had taken from James while he slept. The bloodstones made this possible without your death being possible. 

She liquefied the bloodstones and put it into your system. It corrupted your blood momentarily, seemingly erasing my DNA from your generic makeup. You, in all actuality would have looked exactly like Lily. But if she had left it like that, you would have eventually died from your immune system slowly breaking down."

"So she injected James' blood, and that created a biological cataclysm and permanently altered my appearance, inward and out. What about my mind? Wouldn't it have affected that too? The blood circulates there as well" Harry's eyes widened considerably but Snape made a wave of his hand.

"Yes, in some ways it did altar your mind, but Lily protected most of your mind so if my blood was evident or not, you would still have your own mind. You have nothing to worry, other than a few traits you would still be the same."

"A few traits? Never mind, I don't want to know!" Harry sighed. "There is no way out of this" he stood up and glared at the floor. 

"Of course not" Snape sounded a little confused.

"If you had told me this before, or even tomorrow I could have proven I wasn't yours. I could have proven it was a lie" Harry was tired, hurt and hungry. Why did he ask that before breakfast? Why had he asked that single question at all?

"What do you mean?" Snape asked.

"Today is my birthday" getting no response Harry continued, "_'At the birth of the seventh month, The secret son comes forth, To throw away his veil'_. Now do you see? It's my birthday today, and it's July, the seventh month. I know who I am now. And…" But he didn't get a chance to finish. A searing pain ripped through his body and his legs buckle under him. He felt his head hit something cool and hard a warm liquid trickling down his face, soaking into his robes. He could hear a voice, muffled but sounding very close begin to fade away. 

'At least today can't get any worse if I'm unconscious,' was his last thought before drifting into a peaceful oblivion. 

~

Athena Kitty: SO many questions! * is gobsmacked*

Miaka Chan 5: I know what you mean, but sadly I have a life. Revolving for the most part around school. *Despondant sigh * But at least the Exams are FINALLY over!!!

Serpent of Light: I like you! * Ponders huggling Serpent but decides against it* At least you made it as far as the pondering stage! Maybe it's because you are my twin. I being a Serpent of Darkness *cackles * Thank you for the compliment, in my opinion I'm good at titles and terrible at the actual plot. Oh well, I'm learning.


	13. Chapter Eleven: Headaches

**__**

A/N: I'm trying to find a fic on FF.net but I can't seem to find it! If anybody knows of a fic where James and Harry live please tell me. The fic went something like this (it's been a while so pardon the sketchy summery): James is alive and raises Harry, but he blames Harry (and himself?) for Lily's death. He abuses Harry, and Sirius (who is not in Azkaban) knows about it, but refuses to help. Remus is also in the present in the fic and is one of Harry's favorite people. The fic is from Harry's perspective from what I remember. 

So if you've read it or know where to find it, **_please_** tell me. It was one of my favorites and I never got a chance to find it again after I read the first couple chapters. It's been awhile so it might not even be up anymore, but I thought I'd try. 

~

Harry tried to move but his muscles and bones seemed to be weighted down with lead. A dull ache coursed through his person, quickening with ferocity when it reached his head. His scar was on fire, seemingly trying to burn straight through to his brain. 

Something liquid was running down his temple, and he itched to swipe it away with a hand but was too tired and weak to bend a finger. His throat was dry and burned with force fed potions. 

A voice on his left was talking and Harry desperately wanted to send them somewhere in eastern Russia. Another voice was saying something now, both seemed familiar but Harry couldn't place them. His ears were plugged and everything sounded watered down, and muddled. The voices continued and seemed to be drawing nearer, and louder. Why couldn't these people talk somewhere else? Why here? Harry paused mid-rant.

Where was here? And why was HE there? Racking his brain he mentally sighed. The last thing he remembered was pain. Pain and Snape. Something about his mother and bloodstones, what was it? What was a Snape?

A loud metallic clanging resounded in his ears and he mentally winced. A few harsh words were spoken soon after and Harry wished to Merlin he could hex whoever was in the room. Hex? Merlin?! What was going on?

Room? He had been in Snape's rooms, why hadn't he been in his own rooms? What had happened at the Dursley's? Why did he _hurt_? 

The pounding in his head seemed to increase the more he tried to think. Giving up on it all together he tried to focus on opening his eyes. Where in Merlin's name _was_ he? 

Footsteps were nearing his bed the voices dissipating like a whiff of smoke. A woman's voice, clear and practiced said something muffled and he could here a swish of cloth close by. 

"Enervate" 

Harry felt his eyes forced open by an unseen force. His vision was blurred at first but as he adjusted to the bright light the form of a woman came into view. She was short, perhaps in her fifties. She wore a white hat nurses wore and an apron secured around her waist. 

"Harry? Harry can you hear me? Are you in any pain?" The woman held out a stick. No, no it was a _wand_. A wand, she was a witch. No she was a mediwitch! Harry? Was that his name?

The mediwitch helped Harry to sit up and drink several potions, muttering under her breath about bloodstones and something about 'the cycle'. Two other figures appeared from behind the curtain surrounding his cot. The hospital? But how did he get there? 

The first figure had a long white beard and mustache. He had half moon spectacles and wore long blue robes with pink trim and glittering pink stars. And a matching hat to boot. This one was clearly insane, but also deceptive from the knowing twinkle in his eyes.

The second man was notably younger, lacking in both white hair and beard or mustache. He wore black robes with no distinguishably characteristic about them. And no hat either. His hair, black, was cut to his shoulders and slick with something that made it appear greasy. He was pale, and a scowl seemed to be embedded on his face. This man was much more practical. 

"Professor Snape here told me what happened, Harry" So _he_ was a Snape! 

"Where am I?" Harry asked, eyeing both men with curiosity and wariness. 

"The Medical wing at Hogwarts." replied the old man jovially, pulling out a tin box from within his robes, "Sherbet lemon?"

Harry stared at him, finally gathering enough senses to refuse politely and put together the pieces of information he had collected thus far. "Where is Hogwarts?"

"Scotland"

"What is Hogwarts?"

"A school, your school. For young witches and wizards."

"And you are…?"

"Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster and lover of muggle confections"

"And my name is Harry?"

Here, the Headmaster seemed to falter, "Yes, but we'll talk more when you've gotten your memory back. It shouldn't take long"

"And you're professor Snape?"

The dark man seemed startled at being addressed, but hid it well. "Yes"

"And you teach," Something itched at the back of his mind. "…potions?"

"Yes"

"I think you better drink this, Harry" the mediwitch said, a vial of liquid in her hand. 

Harry consented and was soon fast asleep, under the effects of the Dreamless sleep potion. The adults however watched his slow, laboured breathing with unease. A trickle of metallic scarlet was flowing from a gash on the boy's temple into a silver basin next to his ear. 

"Liquefied bloodstones. That stuff must be worth a fortune!" stated the mediwitch as the basin steadily filled. 

"It's filled with James Potter's blood. I doubt it would be worth a box of strained weasel intestines." Remarked Severus with a sneer. 

Albus gave the younger wizard a reproachful look, but didn't say anything further. Instead the wizened Headmaster drew the curtain closed, leaving the infirmary with instructions to contact him as soon as the boy was awake. 

Severus stalked toward the door but as an afterthought he turned and looked back at the still curtain. With an irritated jerk of his head he swiveled around and left without a word. 

Several hours later Harry lay awake in the large hospital wing of Hogwarts, well aware of the events that had transpired the last time he had awoken. His throat was still dry and the bleeding seemed to have stopped the basin beside him full of a swirling amber liquid that faintly glowed in the dim light. 

Sitting up his vision was blurred and he grimaced at the pain his muscles were burning with. The blinding white offended his already aching eyes, and he felt a bruise where he had collided with the dungeon floor. 

With the thought of dungeon, the image of Snape immediately followed. And with that, came the memory of their conversation. His father. Snape was his father. Snape, vile potions master: most hated professor. No scratch that. Most hated human, if he was even that, was his father. He mentally cursed whatever fate was responsible for his life. 

Opening the drawer on the night table beside his bed he found some clothes and stripping himself of the stiff, thin hospital gown he pulled on his tan brown slacks and white undershirt and white dress shirt. At the bottom of the door he found a pair of shoes and socks and once adding them to his ensemble, headed for the door.

Harry swept at disturbingly long strand of hair out of his face and leaned against the wall for support. His right leg was burning with a vengeance and his vision was slightly distorted. Halfway down the first set of stairs he realized he was lacking in one: holly, eleven-inch, phoenix feather wand. 

Cursing his luck he decided as long as he was in Hogwarts and didn't meet up with Filch, he wouldn't need his wand. Glaring at the rest of steps as he met them, Harry limped on.

Finally, reaching the very bottom step he wiped away the sweat on his brow irritably, rubbing at the breathing stitch he had acquired during the ascent. And going down hill was supposed to be _easy_!

One hand on the cool stone of the dungeon corridor, Harry dragged himself toward the familiar picture of Salazar Slytherin.

The sneering visage smirked at him, "And who are you?" Salazar tapped his chin, tisking to himself. "Well whoever you are, go away. You're fouling up my dungeons"

"_Your_ dungeons? Well pardon me. I was under the mistaken impression these were _Hogwarts_ dungeons! Are you a Hog wart? Hmmm?"

"You answer that, and I'll hex you, prat"

"You're a painting, you can't hex anybody. Except perhaps other paintings." Harry pointed out, unfazed. "Is Professor Snape in?"

"Who would like to know?"

"What, is the dust affecting your sight? I'm Harry Potter. Bane-of-Snape's-existence? Is any of this clicking? Obviously your deplorable vision isn't" Harry crossed his arms and racked his brain for the password.

The portrait seemed startled at the declaration. This boy was certainly _not_ Potter. But before he could say anything the strange boy spoke up, "Devil's Snare."

Harry, satisfied the portrait opened, stepped through the archway and found himself in the main part of Snape's chambers. The fire had died down, and with a lot of effort on his part, Harry stoked it alive. Finally, collapsing in one of the plush high back chairs, Harry closed his eyes and enjoyed the heat the hearth offered. 

He cocked his head when he heard the portrait door open and slam shut, swift footsteps approaching at a quick pace.

"Who's there" a cold voice demanded.

Harry stood up and turned, enjoying the sight of Snape, wand in hand, completely gobsmacked. 

~

HermioneGreen: The revelation is almost at hand! ( Hmmm….that sounded really weird…)

MiakaChan5: I know, sad isn't it? Having a life is oh so trying…

Athena kitty: 1. Yes 2. Yes 3. A little 4. What do you think?

Kateri1: Thanks, what do you like about it? Just curious

Mistik-elf13: * grin* 

Mikee: * innocent smile* I thought it was the _perfect_ place to stop, no? SO many questions…* evil grin*

Slythcat19 (Katie D.): Will Harry be ok? * very evil grin* 

Oh, I am so bad…*cheeky grin *

****

!And Only Blood Can Wash Out Blood! I am changing, so you'll have to hang with me. I'm sorry, but something that one of the poster struck me across the face and called me Spanky the RB salmon, effectively knocking some sense into me. I realized I had completely abandoned the path I wanted to take concerning that particular fic and I will be deleting a few chapters and putting up the ones that SHOULD have been there in the first place. 

If you like the characters Jacob, Alex, and Laine don't worry to much about them, I'll create a new place for them, so you can read both sides of the story. 

I hope you all aren't to mad at me, those of you who are reading this and are also reading AOBCWOB. I'm a new writer and still learning A LOT of the basics and it can be aggravating. So sorry.

Oh yes, and please read and review! 


	14. Chapter Twelve: Replica

"Lily?" 

Whatever Harry had been planning to say caught in his throat and he made an odd gagging noise. Recovering he raised a brow and cocked his head. "Er, professor?" he squeaked.

"Potter!" 

Harry watched as a myriad of emotions played themselves across his usually stoic professor's face. 

"That's the general assumption, sir." 

The potion master quickly composed himself and crossed his arms, glaring menacingly. "What are you doing here, Potter? You're supposed to be in the Hospital Wing!" 

"I came down here. To talk to you." Harry stated evenly his voice several octaves higher than they had been before. What was going on? 

"I supposed you haven't looked in a mirror lately have you?" 

"No. I have a decent idea as to what I look like. Unlike Lockhart I don't need to check my appearance every time I move seven feet!"

"As much as I agree with you, I think you should be aware of what you look like." Snape left the room and Harry could hear him muttering the shrinking spell, a moment later returning with a small mirror. The pallid man handed it to him and Harry glanced at his image, sure that the wizard had finally snapped. 

__

CRASH

The mirror shattered on the stone floor, and Snape watched amused as the boy-who-refused-to-die turned pale and took several steps away from the incriminating broken piece of matter. 

"Tch tch tch, Potter, really."

"What happened to me?!" Harry gasped out, looking at his hands and feeling his face. On impulse he grabbed at his hair and brought it before his eyes looking in horror at it's red curls. "I look like…like…a…"

"Girl? You're mother to be precise. I told you when the bloodstones are activated in your system they erased all my influence from your genetic DNA. You looked exactly like your mother for a few moments before she injected you with James' blood. 

"Now that we have emptied your system of most of the bloodstones which is mixed with James' blood, the process is being reversed. Madam Pomfrey took my blood earlier this afternoon, if you had stayed where you belonged she might had injected it within you already. But I see now, that she has not. She was probably trying to separate the components of Jame's blood from the bloodstones when you made your foolish escape.

"Come on then. Let's get you back before you catch something deadly. It is exhausting for your immune system to do this. It won't be able to fight the most basic of colds, or allergies let alone something like pneumonia. Then there is always the fact that when the bloodstones left your system it disrupted your entire person. I wouldn't be surprised if your blood tried to reverse its' course within the hour."

Harry followed the scowling man as far as the first staircase, his mind was reeling with the image of his mother's face looking back at him from the mirror. She looked about his age, with bouncing red girls and a splash of freckles on her nose. His nose. This was so confusing! His legs were burning with a vengeance and he was starting to break a sweat. Brushing away a lock of brilliant red hair the Potter child bit his lip as he looked at the staircase skeptically. 

Halfway up the second case he collapsed, causing the potion master to paused mid stride and look back. Seeing the disheveled replica of Lily he resisted the urge to roll his eyes, opting instead for his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa," he muttered, ushering the unconscious form in front of him, careful not to bump his head on any railings. 

Finally reaching the infirmary he spelled Harry over to a hospital cot and retrieved several necessary medical utensils. He grimaced slightly when picking out several syringes. As many things a wand could do, one still had to manually insert and extract fluids.

Finding Poppy in her office they both took full advantage of Harry's unconscious state. The mediwitch inserted several needles into Harry's arm, spelling them in place. Leaving the room she came back with several items. One was a clear plastic bag filled the metallic bloodstones. A second bag was filled with Severus' scarlet blood. And a third, much smaller bag was filled with his spinal fluid. 

As Severus took a seat on the next cot, Poppy immediately set about attaching certain bags to certain needles. Checking his pulse, respiratory tract and liver she stepped back and watched at the potion masters' side. 

"Remarkable isn't it?"

"How, after as many years as he's spent in here, he still manages to walk out?" Snape questioned snidely, watching Harry's still erratic breathing with a hint of concern.

"How much he looks like Lily."

Snape narrowed his eyes and didn't reply. Upon entering his quarters under the impression there was an impostor in his rooms as Salazar had warned him, the boy was the last person he would have expected.

In fact, from the description given him, he was very sure it would be a messenger from Voldermorte. Lucius even, possibly under the effects of Polyjuice.

Seeing the image of an adolescent Lily had nearly made him lose his mask. For a moment his heart had stopped and he was sure he had been killed and was now living in a heaven of sorts. He snorted. A wizard in heaven, the very idea.

Standing up he looked doubtfully at the image of a youthful Lily and left the room at a quick pace. 

Inside the confines of his dungeon once more Severus reclined in a chair, pulling out a book and turned to a specific page. The words swam for a moment, a pair of vibrant green eyes looking up at him. The face was next to come and the lips were forming words he couldn't hear. Blinking he shook his head and stared at the lifeless book. 

The clock read well past midnight and the flames in the hearth were beginning to die down. Shivering at the sudden realization of how cold it was the potion master retired to his rooms. Laying on his bed, staring at his ceiling he recalled how strange it had been to see Lily again. She had been so young, so beautiful, and so perfect. 

Harry was like her in so many ways. His spirit, his courage, his wit, his temper, and most notably his determination. Closing his obsidian eyes he pinched the bridge of his nose, willing his headache away. Irritated he entered his laboratory and uncorked a vial of Pepper-up. Sipping it he replaced the half filled bottle and sat at his desk. 

~Reviews

Thank you so much to everyone who figured out what the fic I was looking for was called! IN case anyone was wondering it was, "The Darker Shades of Grey" by Angelic Vampire. Wonderful piece of work by the way I encourage you all to check it out.

Tamsyn: Thank you so much, things are getting hectic around here but I've finally managed another chappy wee!

Kateri1: umm…thanks…I think/hope * grin *

Blue Clover: Yes it was, thank you ^_^

Athenakitty: yes yes…yes!

Rhysel Ash: No, but I did check that one out two. Candidis by Okamiko. I liked it was well.

Mistik-elf13: lol. Cookies! Whee!

Mikee: Well I didn't really describe his appearance much but you get the idea. This chapter was fun. * wicked grin * Yes, a gobsmacked Severus is always an amusing sight. * evil cackle *

Hecate DeMort: You're one of those silent types, aren't you? * shifty look *

Agnei Smith: lol, yes it's getting late here as well. Ugh. ~_~

Hermione Green: Word war. Awesome term. ^_^ Thank you for the review!

Ady: Thank you for reviewing to tell me the name of the fic. I was so desperate! LoL. 


	15. Chapter Thirteen: Escalus Solanio Angelo...

Despite his protests Hogwarts' Madam Pomfrey refused to let Harry out of her sight, insisting it was for his own good. Right.

"We wouldn't want you to collapse and knock your head against anything again, now would we, Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey gave him a kind smile, checking his temperature.

Harry, slightly groggy from a heavy sleeping potion, nodded his head and submitted to her ministrations. But her words rang in his head. 'Mr. Potter?' Was he really?

After the mediwitch left Harry rested against his propped up pillows and stared at the far wall. So many things had taken place in the past few weeks and he was still reeling. He had been sick with grief and regret when he had been rescued, and had thought death would have been a blessed release. But now, he was probably worse off than before.

Voldemort was still alive and after him. This might be slightly remedied by the fact that he was no longer Harry Potter, as least he doubted it was much of a problem anymore. This was another problem. Who was he? He couldn't very well go back to school as Harry Potter now that traces of his "father's" blood were no longer present. He doubted he would look very much like James Potter anymore, if his lanky frame and limp hair were anything to go by. And now that he was more or less Snape's son, would they change his name? Re-introduce him at the start of term as someone completely new? If his last sorting was anything to go by, Harry could make a pretty good guess what house he would placed in the second time around.

If that was true then what would be expected of him? Would he be expected to put on the same act as Snape? Pretend to be intently interested in the Dark Lord? Harry knew that if this was the road he was bound for then an even more likely was the road toward taking the Mark, and that, he wouldn't do. Harry knew that it would be expected, Snape was from a long line of dark wizards, much like the Malfoy's and Black's. But what of the prophecy? Did it still apply to him? Harry had a general idea that Snape most certainly had not defied the Dark Lord when he had been born?

But then again…how long ago had Snape turned on the Dark Lord? What if he had turned before his parents (mom and James, he remedied himself forcefully) had been killed? So many questions! Wishing he could sink farther into the mattress and hide under the covers forever Harry sighed and wondered why the fates were so adamant to make his life unlivable.

The following days Harry didn't see much of anyone except for Remus who was staying at Hogwarts until the term started. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore might hire him back for the Defense position again.

"Oh good, your awake." Said the familiar soft voice of Remus Lupin.

"Sure." Said Harry highly doubting that his state of drowsiness could be considered 'awake'.

"Hm, yes. I supposes 'conscious' would be a better term." Remus smiled.

"Remus, what's going to happen?" asked Harry, a slow throbbing headache starting to form.

The haggard man took a seat on the chair next to Harry's cot and fiddled with a piece of tattered sleeve. "I can't honestly say, Harry. The necessary precautions will be taken though, I can assure you of that."

"Will they put me hiding?"

"I doubt it, not yet anyway. I think perhaps that several serious changes will take place though." Said Lupin gravely.

"Will Snape have to give up spying?" Harry sincerely hoped this wasn't the case, although he may hate the man he didn't want the Order to lose one of their chief informants. And certainly not because of him.

Remus paused and thought it over, "It may be best, Harry, to let the Headmaster tell you." At Harry's slightly annoyed expression he chuckled. "He knows more than I do, and can answer your questions more thoroughly that I can."

"If he chooses." Said Harry resentfully.

"Albus always has his reasons, Harry."

The conversation dropped into a lull and Harry studied his fingers. They were longer than usual and the skin was devoid of the freckle that used to reside on the flap of skin between his index finger and thumb. "Remus?"

"Hm?" Lupin had apparently brought a book with him and was reading intently. At Harry's inquiry he paused and looked up.

"What do I look like? It's been days, and Pomfrey won't let me near anything that could show my reflection. Personally," he added conspiratorially. "I think she suspects I'll go into epileptic shock."

Remus gave a sharp bark of laughter and quickly covered it when the mediwitch came through the adjoining door. Once she had left he broke into a grin and chuckled, shaking his head. Sobering he looked up and studied Harry's face intently.

"And don't lie, my hair is black again. And I've noticed that it takes less time for it to have that 'dirty' feeling. My eyes sight has also improved and my voice is…different. So tell me, what do I look like?"

"You look like…Lily. Her features are much more obvious…" Remus studied his face and seemed unsure of what to say.

"And…?" said Harry, spellbound with dread and anticipation.

"You're his son, Harry, you're bound to look like him." Lupin marked his place in his book and set it on the stand, his brow dipped with hesitation.

"Remus!" said Harry, exasperated.

The werewolf sighed, "I'll bring you a mirror. You look like both of them; it depends on who you knew. I knew Lily well and you knew Severus more." Harry choked. "You know what I meant! You were around him more that I was."

Harry nodded his head, "You're right, I think you'd better bring a mirror."

Remus returned a while later with a small mirror and handed it to the dark haired boy. Harry took it and felt his stomach clench. It was the brother mirror of the one Sirius had given him. Squashing the thoughts of pain and sorrow he looked at his reflection with interest. James' boyish features were nonexistent and his skin was paler. Whether this was from lack of being out doors all summer or if it was hereditary from Snape, Harry couldn't tell. His bone structure was different, his jaw less round and more symmetrical, his nose was high but, thankfully, not hooked.

"He broke his." Came Remus' amused voice.

"What?" said Harry, giving back the mirror.

"His nose, you were wondering why you're nose wasn't hooked?" Remus had a wistful look on his face. "During a quidditch match he was the reserve chaser and Sirius was a beater. You work out the details." He finished grimly.

Harry smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. A small part of him really wished Sirius hadn't been such a git.

"Perhaps you should get some more rest, Severus will be by soon to help you move back to the dungeons."

Harry frowned. "Why? It's not like he cares-"

"Harry," said Remus, his tone chastising.

"Well?" Harry challenged. "Does it look like he cares? I'm his bloody son and he hasn't even been to visit or say hello or sit there and curse at me! Nothing! I know what he thinks of me, he doesn't what me as his son. I'm just the consequence of another prophecy." Harry played with the edge of the hospital blanket glumly.

"Don't be absurd, Severus doesn't know how to act. He just found out he had a son, and that son-"

"Is James Potter reincarnated." Finished Harry with a sneer. "Just because I'm his, won't change the way he sees me, Moony, he'll always see me as a loud, fool hardy, obnoxious, arrogant James Potter clone!" Harry hated saying as much, as if his words cemented it the fact alone.

Remus Lupin ran a hand through his ever-greying hair and sighed. "You can't expect him to just suddenly accept you, Harry."

"I don't, believe me, Moony, I don't. I don't expect anything from him."

"I hate to see you like this, Harry, I-"

"No, don't. I don't want your sympathy. I should have realised that I couldn't expect him to like me. I'm surprised I even let myself play around with the idea. I guess after everything that happened last year, I just…I don't know what to think, to believe, or anything. You know?"

Remus smiled sadly and stood, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, I know. Come on, let's get you ready then." The werewolf opened the dresser drawer beside the bed and rumaged around for some clothes.

"What was in that potion?" said Harry around another yawn. "I feel like I'm stuck in a fog or something."

"Harry? Where did all these clothes come from?"

"I dunno, Dumbledore?" Harry looked up from pulling on a pair of slacks. He hadn't thought about and had just assumed it had been the Headmaster.

"Professor Dumbledore, Harry, are you sure?"

Harry shrugged, removing his hospital gown. A sharp intake of breath brought his attention up to meet the glowing eyes of Remus. It was in that moment Harry recognized the wolf in his favorite ex-professor. "Moony?" He asked meekly.

Remus' yellow eyes were staring at Harry's chest and looking down Harry could see why he was in a state of shock. Scars crisscrossed and overlapped down the front of his body. While most were healed and slightly faded, uglier, newer ones stood out in sharp contrast to his pale skin. "Moony…"

The werewolf's eyes were a mixture of anger, guilt, and pain. "I'm so sorry, Harry."

"For what? You didn't know." Harry had quickly put on the shirt and jumper that his friend had previously been inspecting.

"I should have!" he said vehemently.

Harry gave him an annoyed look, "How? How could you help me? You didn't know, no one knew!"

"You should have told us!"

"And would you have believed me? I already told you how much I hated it there! I told you all, but nobody wanted to hear it! I'm the boy-who-lived, Remus! My life is supposed to be perfect! Who would believe me?"

"Any of us!" argued the older wizard. "You could have come to any of us, we would have listened!"

Harry snorted, his face twisted into a sneer, "Snape already believed I was an attention seeking brat! I would have been patted on the head and told to be a good boy!" Harry could feel the lump of emotion closing off his throat but he persisted anyway, "I told you how I was starved, how they hated me and magic! I told you, you just didn't listen!"

Remus was shaking with different emotions. He knew it was true, if he had looked and read between the lines he knew what he would have found. He remembered how Harry was always skinny, how he never got new glasses or the only muggle clothes he wore, besides the jumpers Mrs. Weasley sent every winter, were a pair of obscenely large jeans and tattered shirts. Looking back over the years he recognised the signs that seemed blindingly obvious now, but for some reason- had been over looked. A growl built in his throat and standing up he left the infirmary, seeking solace where a pair of green eyes wouldn't watch him.

Harry watched him leave and felt a tinge of regret. He had gone to far, he should have kept his mouth closed. Feeling hot tears threatening to fall he went to a sink on the far side of the room and splashed cold water on his face. Straightening, he found a towel and wiped his face, wondering where he had put his glasses anyway. His eyesight really had improved, while not perfect he could look around the room and nothing was blurry except the edges of the window on the far end of the room.

Checking to make sure he left nothing he sat on his made bed and waited. Snape strode into the room a short while later, pausing in the doorway looking at him. Steeling himself against the rejection Harry quickly followed him through the corridors to the Headmaster's office.

Inside they both took chairs on opposite sides of the room. Albus arrived shortly after and looked at them both with amusement. Harry wished he wouldn't. While the idea that his family wasn't actually dead was nice, the idea of who that left him with was not.

"Good morning, Severus, Harry." Both nodded their head muttering their own acknowledgement. "Lemon drop, anyone?"

After both refused the treat Dumbledore popped one into his mouth and ordered tea for everyone. That was the funny thing about spending time with the dotty Headmaster. You never knew what would happen other than you would be offered a Lemon Drop and force fed peppermint tea until it grew cold by the end.

"Professor, what is going to happen?" It was obvious by the look of serene calmness that literally oozed off the old man that he had been waiting for them to start the meeting. "Professor Snape can't possibly resume his spying if Voldemort knows about our…relation." Harry knew Severus hated when they used the Dark Lord's name but pushed the thought away.

"We have devised a plan. Harry Potter will be sent away into hiding since he is obviously a prime target for Voldemort. Severus' son will be a transfer student from Durmstrange. There was student there by the name of 'Angelo Aspera', he was expelled and now, you will take his name here. The papers are all arranged and coming this next term you will sorted as 'Escalus Solanio Angelo Aspera Snape.'

"Back story has been arranged as well. Your father Severus believed his wife dead, discovering your existence he took you back, your mother hated you and relinquished her custody."

"Escalus Solanio Angelo Aspera Snape?" Harry stared at the Headmaster and Snape for a moment in disbelief. "You've got to be kidding me." Snape for one looked mildly offended. "No, never mind. Later. What about…Voldemort?" Harry noted Snape stiffen at the name.

"Severus will continue his duty, there is no reason to worry about that."

"And if he requests me?" Harry pressed.

"Severus can cover for you with the fact that you are not ready enough, Durmstrange is not the best of schools, its' curriculum is very loose and the classes poor." The headmaster was idly running his gnarled fingers through his beard. Harry hated when he did that.

"Good to know you have things under control," said Harry under his breath. Snape looked like he was about to say something but was silenced with a look from Dumbledore. "Can I at least tell Hermione and Ron?"

"It would be best if you didn't."

"The Order will have to know eventually." Pointed out Harry. He felt awfully fidgety in the office since that last time he had been there, he had practically wrecked the place out. "Maybe if we…" Harry paused, looking at the Headmaster meaningfully. "If we…filled them in on certain…things." Harry hated the idea of the whole Order knowing about the prophecy.

Dumbledore gave him calculating look. "Are you certain?"

"Yes." Harry was pointedly avoiding Snape's gaze. "They will need to know eventually wouldn't they? Might as well get it all out. And besides," he added with a dark look at the Headmaster. "You know how bad situations can get when vital information is withheld."

Albus answered this statement with a slightly sad smile. "Yes, I suppose I would."

"Then it's settled."

"I'll give you the time for the meeting once it's set up. Would you prefer it be at Hogwarts, rather than Headquarters?"

"Headquarters is fine, professor." Harry bit his tongue the moment the words had left his mouth. He should have said Hogwarts! But headquarters would probably be safer anyway. After a few moments the meeting ended with the agreement that Hermione and the whole lot of the Weasley family would be present when the announcement about his true heritage was revealed.

Reviews

Athenakitty: muahaha. So many questions, and so many answers…

Kateri1: thanks!

HecateDeMorte: Thanks for your review. Yes, turning Potter into Lily was quite fun.

Anyone who is out of story ideas: I have several challenges on my Author Page for your to consider. cackle


	16. Chapter Fourteen: Spy in the Ranks

A week later Harry was curled up on his bed with one of the books from the Founder's Library when Snape came in. Harry hadn't seen the wizard for three days except for a few times in passing through the hallway.

"Don't you ever knock?" Harry asked. Turning a page he glanced up at the dark outline in the door frame.

Snape gave him a dark look but only said, "Come, the Headmaster is here; he wishes to speak with you."

Abandoning the book on his bed he stood and followed Snape into the study. On a rather large, plushy chair that Harry was sure Snape would never allow in his chambers of his own volition, was Dumbledore. His glasses were perched on the edge of his nose and he was steadily pursuing a book from one of the many shelves. Sensing their arrival he looked up and gave a benign smile. "Good to see you again, _Escalus_, I trust you've been staying out of trouble?"

"Of course," said Harry; talking in the same cultured voice Snape had been teaching him to use.

Taking a seat on a dark colored divan pressed up next to the wall and a book shelf the teen leaned back and watched both adults silently. Since their last meeting both Snape and Albus had made a concerted effort to erase all connection between the boy they saw and Harry. Snape had even gone as far as to not glare at him any longer.

"Have you set a date yet, Headmaster?"

"That's what I wanted to speak with you about. Severus, might I have a moment with your son alone?"

Snape wordlessly stood and swept from the room. Once the door was shut the wizard turned his attention to Harry. "I believe it would be prudent to postpone revealing certain things to the old crowd."

Harry felt irritation flare alive within his chest," But my friends!" He protested.

"Would be put in considerable danger should we tell them more than they already know. Believe me, Harry-"

"Escalus!" Harry corrected.

"Escalus," the headmaster continued demurely," I do understand your wish to tell your friends everything that has been happening to you, but you must understand! We are at the very brink of a war and I know you would not wish to endanger them needlessly."

"But this doesn't explain why you won't tell everyone about the prophesy."

Dumbledore seemed to age before his eyes as he frowned and regarded Harry sorrowfully. "Last term I made a mistake, one that I cannot afford to make again, for your sake as well as mine. " Then, as if the words were being pulled from behind his teeth the headmaster said," I believe there may be a leak within the crowd."

Harry digested the information slowly, "A leak? But…I thought…How can there be a leak?"

"The old crowd first banded together when Grindewald was just coming to power, we had twenty members at the first meeting and we disbanded soon after he brought down. Then, we came together again when Riddle became a threat. We acquired even more members and were finally able to spread out at different locations across Europe giving us vital contact that could fill us in on what he might be trying to accomplish beyond the British boarder. Well, after his apparent defeat, we almost completely disbanded except for a few of us who kept in touch here at the school and at the Ministry. But," Dumbledore sighed and looked at his gnarled hands heavily.

"I neglected to realize that after so long apart the other members had sixteen years to change their minds about what they supported when they were younger. When we called the first, full meeting of the old crowd only two thirds came from the original group. Of course, several had died of age and possibly disease or been too old to make the journey. Other may simply have not believed in Voldemort's return or changed their mindsets. I fear that someone may have returned with less than the best intentions."

"But…who would…?" Harry trailed off.

Dumbledore shook his head at the unspoken question. "The crowd has grown significantly beyond anything that I would have imagined, it would be impossible, short of administering truth serum to everyone, to tell who the informant is. I'm afraid time will have to tell on this one, that is why I cannot allow anyone to know who you are and where Harry Potter went. And telling _anyone_ about the prophesy now would be suicide. Now do you understand, Escalus?"

Harry nodded his head, his black fringe falling into his eyes. "Yes. Is that all, Headmaster?"

"Ah, yes, if you could ask Severus to come back in on your way out?"

"Of course, Headmaster," said Harry. Re-adjusting his house robe, Harry bid the headmaster farewell and closed the door behind him. In the main room Snape was standing next to a knee high book shelf, staring off into space.

"Sir? Professor?" receiving no answer, Harry crept forward uneasily. "Professor Snape?" Still no answer. The wizard's eyes were far away and worried for his professor Harry drew even closer. "Professor!" the word fell on deaf ears. Uneasy, Harry took a deep breath, and gathering his courage, addressed, "Father?" His voice had been barely above a whisper but the word did its magic. The older man started violently, his black eyes pinning him where he stood.

"Escalus?" said Snape, the voice addressing some other shade beyond Harry's vision.

"The headmaster wishes to speak with you," said Harry, shaken to his core. The black eyes were still not entirely present but they tore themselves from Harry's and sought out the closed door to the study. "Yes."

"I'll be in my room."

Slowly Snape seemed to become more and more aware of himself and his surroundings, "I'll see you at supper then?"

"Yes, sir."

Snape nodded and walked stiffly to the door and closed it behind him. It took Harry a couple minutes to realize he hadn't disappeared into his room and wiped at his face, suddenly very tired. _Well, that was weird. _

In his room Harry collapsed onto the bed and closed his eyes. He'd been instructed to take at least one afternoon nap each day and after the little scene with his professor Harry was more than willing to sleep it all away. Unfortunately his dreams didn't quite agree with him.

_Harry leaned against the barrier on the Astronomy tower and felt the wind blow across his face and hands. Cracking open twin green eyes he turned at the sound of footsteps coming from the open door way behind him. _

_"What are you doing up here, Snape spawn?" Ron's voice broke what peaceful spell had descended upon him and he whirled around in surprise. The freckled red head was glaring at him in annoyance. _

_"Hello," said Harry, his gaze flicking toward Hermione's who remained behind Ron on the steps. "Who are you?" He forced his gaze to their Gryffindor insignias and gave them a neutral gaze._

_"I'm Hermione Granger and this is Ron Weasley; students aren't permitted on the Astronomy Tower outside of class. If you leave now, I won't take points from Slytherin." Ron had an objection to this statement but when he opened his mouth Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. _

_Harry felt like someone had punched him in the gut. "Why are you up here then?"_

_"We're prefects." They both gave him pointed looks and moved away from the staircase to allow him passage. _

_"Ah." Harry moved pass them, happy at least that Ron hadn't tried to trip him. Although, Harry was certain the only thing stopping the other boy was fear of his father's retribution. "I'll see you around then, Granger, Weasley."_

_With that he swept down the stairs, Ron's voice haunting him from the top, "Slytherins, Merlin, what do you suppose that was about?" He didn't hear Hermione's reply. He wasn't so sure he wanted to know._

"Escalus, wake up. Escalus," said a voice above his ear.

"'M commin', aunt Petunia." He said groggily, Ron's eyes beginning to fade from his dream.

"Wake up, Escalus," prodded the bemused voice.

Opening his eyes into a squint he looked up into Snape's black ones. "Yes, sir?"

"You were late for dinner, have you been sleeping since your talk with the Headmaster? Are you feeling well?" Something unreadable flickered in his black gaze.

"Yeah, I think so." Well, except for having fallen asleep on his transfiguration text.

"Hmm, come then, our meal is waiting." Snape took a step back, away from the bed and watched as Harry dragged himself up, that strange expression still on his face.

Glancing at the grandfather clock that stood alone in the corner of the main room Harry nearly tripped in shock. He'd been sleeping for five hours! Blinking his eyes rapidly he followed his professor into the dining room. The dining room was large enough to hold one table to seat eight people including one on each end, and a fire place to fire call the kitchen if necessary. Harry thought that Snape would always take the head of the table position but had been in for a surprise when not only did he not take that head seat but, instead, he seemed to favor the seat facing the entrance door and near the center of the table. Harry always tended to seat himself farthest away from the dark figure but tonight, after the dream, he wanted something else.

After Snape took his customary seat Harry pulled out the chair directly in front of him. Snape stared at him in surprise but didn't comment. The meal arrived and soon the only sound was silverware scraping across porcelain.

"Are you alright, Escalus?" Snape had finished his meal and was swirling something around in a wine glass. Harry noted his gaze was taking in everything, including the meager bits of food he'd been eating.

"I haven't been feeling very hungry."

Snape stood in one graceful motion, the liquid in his glass not so much as sloshing, and came around the table until he was standing next to the teen's chair. A long, pale hand sought out his forehead behind the fringe and settled there for a moment. Unexpectedly the sensation was cool and soothing, causing Harry to lean into the touch in relief. Snape's thin lips turned down at the corners and, not breaking contact with Harry's skin, he drew his thumb over his eyes which had fluttered closed. Harry felt his eyes being tugged open and complied, feeling tired all over again.

"Wait here," said Snape. If Harry hadn't felt so…_off_, he might've realized Snape was being, of all things, temperate. In a few moments he returned with two vials and pulled a chair out from beside him. "Drink this."

Harry obeyed and pursed his lips together at the nauseating taste. Through the haze of sickness he felt a hand grab his elbow and soft voice says, "Come with me."

The hand supported him as he stumbled across their living space and into his room. "Here, lie down. Easy," said Snape when it appeared Harry would knock his head against the back wall. Somewhere in the back of his mind Harry realized something, "You're being nice," he accused as if it was some heinous wrong.

Snape merely raised a brow, "Am I?" He sounded slightly offended, or confused. "Drink this now." He placed the cool, glass container into his palm and watched as he uncorked it and brought it to his lips.

"Thank you, professor," said Harry, falling back onto his pillow, clumsily pulling a blanket over his shoulders.

"It is my duty to ensure your well being, Escalus, no thanks are needed."

"Still," Harry insisted, letting his lead lined eyes fall closed and slumber over come him. _If I can win over Ron and Hermione, this father son thing might work…_

_A/N: Thank you all for sticking around! _And a happy 4th to all you in and of the U.S.A.

_Reviews!_

Athenakitty, SheWolfe7, All Canadian Gurl, spectra2, Cat323 (much to much Shakespeare in answer to your question.), Arica-Princess of Rivendell, Cataclysmic, HecateDeMort, ak-alterego, Iana Moon, Lady Lightening, Sara R Potter, fhippogriff


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